Exit Strategy
by Blood Dark Sun
Summary: A Skirmish Brothers AU. Set in the far future, four friends combine their diverse talents to escape from a hostile offworld boys' school. Rated for language, innuendo and discussions of past abuse, dub-con, suicide and murder. Engmano; now with DenPru! Note: the genres were originally Hurt/Comfort and Sci-Fi.
1. Regrouping

**Regrouping.**

Arthur was seated at his desk in the corner, struggling with his Esperanto homework, when he heard the dorm room door slide open. His roommate Lovino staggered in, his dark brown hair disheveled and – and his face all bloody? "What happened to you?" the blond blurted out.

Lovino rolled his amber eyes towards the security camera that they both knew was active. "Fucking Manuel beat me up and took _some of my things_. But I'm all right." He dropped his book bag on the floor. "I'm going to wash up," the brunet went on, wearily, as he kicked off his shoes. "Back in a few minutes."

Arthur just nodded and watched him grab his wash kit before leaving the room.

_Some of my things._ The Brit wondered why Manuel wanted to steal drugs. He wasn't one of their regular customers. But situations did change, sometimes very rapidly. Maybe the Chilean had gotten to the same desperate point as most of the rest of the blokes here, or maybe his sometime-boyfriend Martin had talked him into trying some.

But the blond charmer Martin was one of their best customers – he was so addicted to the drugs Arthur developed that they'd earned a lot of Galactic dollars from him already this year. Enough for their friend Gilbert to upgrade a lot of his necessary tech, enough for Arthur to buy larger shipments of the supplies he worked with. Gilbert was a master of information manipulation and he'd managed to keep all this flagrant earning and spending under the radar of the school authorities, so far.

Well, Arthur could ask about Manuel when Lovino got back. They had to talk very softly, of course, to avoid having their conversations picked up by the security cameras, but over the last year the two of them had evolved a kind of shorthand way of speaking that allowed them to communicate effectively without being very explicit.

He turned back to his blasted homework and tried to write a few more sentences, basically killing time until Lovino came back and they could try to talk. He wished he'd done his homework in the quad, with Gilbert, earlier. It would have been done by now and he wouldn't have this sodding headache.

The brunet burst into the room yelling, turning to punch the button to shut the sliding door, and Arthur saw that Spanish git Antonio out in the hallway, laughing and reaching for Lovino. Arthur immediately dropped his stylus and came to help his roommate. "_Chigi!_ Get the fuck away from us, bastard," Lovino yelled in his thick Italian accent, still trying to shut the door.

Arthur stepped into the door gap and shoved the flat of his hand into Antonio's face. "Bugger off!" He kicked the intrusive Spaniard in the stomach; he fell backwards onto the floor. Arthur ducked back into the room and Lovino successfully closed and locked the door. Antonio may have continued to bang on the door, but the rooms were soundproof. They'd never know it, if he did.

"Now what happened?" Arthur asked, as they tried to catch their breath. He pushed his hands through his blond hair, messing it up, but he didn't care.

There was no reason to talk surreptitiously about this sort of thing. The school administrators expected that the students here – mostly delinquents – would get into fights. Lovino snarled, "Bastard tried to jump me in the bathroom again," rubbing the hem of his shirt over his still-wet face and crossing to his narrow bunk.

School administrators didn't try to stop that sort of shite, either. Antonio had been after Lovino for the last two years; nobody ever did a thing about it. And everyone knew just how intently the principal himself liked to watch, and participate in, homosexual activities. Arthur shuddered, trying once again to repress all that, and went back to his desk.

"I'm having trouble with this bloody Esperanto," he said, trying to make his voice calm. "Will you be able to help me?"

This would have sounded somewhat brutal to an outsider, who might have expected him to comfort his friend, but Lovino would understand that they needed to talk. He nodded and came over, standing to look over Arthur's shoulder.

Gilbert had studied their room's layout and eventually discovered that this area was far enough out of the security camera's range that general movement could be discerned, but not specifics. They were somewhat safe from surveillance, here. Arthur felt Lovino bend down, pretending to look at the computer tablet. The brunet whispered, "Can we run Program B tonight? We can talk, then."

Arthur stilled. Program B was always, _always_ a torment to him. But he couldn't say no to Lovino, especially not with his roommate's warm cheek still pressed against Arthur's hair. He nodded once, quickly. He'd try to be strong. And then the blond pushed Lovino away and tried to focus on his Esperanto homework.

"Sorry, can't help you with that," Lovino said, for the benefit of the camera.

…

Program B was Gilbert's brainchild. It was an hour-long program that interrupted the security camera's signal, replacing it with sixty minutes' worth of generic footage of Arthur and Lovino in their separate beds, sleeping. To implement it, each of them got into his bed, and then Lovino activated the signal. Two minutes later the program began to run and they had just under an hour to talk – or whatever – completely safe from observation.

Most nights (and they only dared use it two or three times a month) Arthur used Program B time to whip up some batches of drugs. Otherwise, to escape the cameras, he had to sit in the closet and do it, which was cramped, dark, and smelly.

But whenever Lovino suggested Program B, Arthur was disturbed, because the brunet almost always wanted to fool around with him. Arthur, despite the scars left by the twisted principal's mistreatment of him in his first year, always agreed. Because he loved Lovino and wanted to please him. His roommate had helped him through all those difficult times with patience and care, and continued to befriend the blond – a lonely young Englishman who'd never had a real friend before, just customers who sucked up to him for free drugs.

Arthur loved Lovino desperately for that, and he wanted to cherish his angry roommate, calm him and keep him safe. And – and he wanted to feel loved and protected in return, of course. More than anything in his life, he wanted the two of them to let down their barriers with one another. He could even have abandoned their escape plans and put up with the two more years of school, if he knew they could be together and close when they were alone. Even if it only happened two or three times a month, during Program B, as long as he knew they were safe together in their hearts.

But Lovino, still so defensive, used Program B as a pure sexual outlet. He always gave Arthur a blow job (which Arthur tried to enjoy, but was always conflicted about), and only expected a quick hand job in return; sometimes he even did this himself, saying that Arthur didn't really need to bother. The one time that Arthur had tried to stop him – arguing that it wasn't necessary, that he was quite comfortable just lying in bed with Lovino and talking – the brunet had gotten so angry at what he perceived as rejection that they'd had their first-ever fight. They had spent the entire rest of the hour screaming at each other, in tears, though neither had struck the other. Both of them had known that would be the unforgivable sin.

Arthur had been so distressed by that scene that he had decided never to cross Lovino again.

They typically used the remainder of Program B to discuss their drug business, the supplies they needed, and their so-far futile plan to escape from this planet with Gilbert, but on the whole these secret sessions – intimate yet somehow distant – left Arthur enfeebled. Alone in his bed afterwards, he always had to muffle his anguish in his pillow.

But he never said no.

…

_This story is probably going to be quite long and involved, and will require a lot more thought and research than most of my other stories. _

_I hope the concept is interesting to you. Thanks to Kastiyana for introducing me to Martin and Manuel in "Bittersweet Poison"!_


	2. New Beginnings

**New Beginnings.**

Irritated, listening to the yells and catcalls down the hallway, the dark teen pressed his palm to the biometric security panel outside his dorm room. It flashed a brief green light before the automated system slid the door back to allow him entrance. He stepped inside and looked around the tiny room, so hated, so familiar, before throwing his duffel bag onto his uncomfortable left-side bed and peeling off the stretchy shoes he always wore for space travel. Thank God the fucking roommate wasn't here yet. He blew out a sigh and looked out the window of his tenth-floor room.

The dome was nearly invisible at this time of day; the sun was up, and shone brilliantly through the thin protective membrane. The developments under the dome stretched as far as he could see. Far off, the once-prosperous mining town, now going to seed. Closer, the social areas of the colony, things like dumbass sports arenas and the fairgrounds, also in disuse. And right beneath the window, the buildings and grounds of the hated academy, which, unfortunately, was thriving.

Lovino hated that fucking view, every single bit of it, the rocks and paths, the abandoned buildings. He gritted his teeth and dumped out his duffel, finding a memory card and slotting it into the wall display. The view out to the town immediately changed to one of a peaceful Tuscan scene, sunlit and empty of all of man's creations. The pictured trees and grasses shivered gently in the unseen wind; birds flew across the silent landscape. He stared at it a moment, longingly, before returning to his unpacking. A place with no people. If Lovino could find such a place, could subsist there, it would be like heaven to him, even if he didn't live very long after that. Just a few months of peace, of being _completely alone._ This had been his goal for so long that he couldn't even remember a time before that.

Lovino tried very hard to ignore his surroundings here at this damn place. All summer long he'd worked on creating the window display, at home. It was coordinated with the days, so the scene would darken at night, automatically. It really was perfect. He'd use it as an anchor to keep his mind on his schooling, ignore all the other bastards, and get through the year intact. This was his second year at the academy; this and three more to endure, unless something unusual happened.

He wondered what the new roommate would be like. After rooming with that idiotic Spanish sex fiend last year, Lovino had steeled himself to speak to his indifferent father, asking him to intervene with the school authorities and make sure he wouldn't have that motherfucker for a roommate again this year. Though he hadn't used that kind of language; he hadn't wanted a whipping.

Apparently the dip in Lovino's grades, combined with his appalling weight loss and the sheer fact that he'd even dared approach his cold and aloof father, had worried the older man enough to request a change of roommate for his son. Yes, Lovino knew the chances were he'd end up with someone just as bad as fucking Antonio, but he was willing to take that risk. When the e-bulletin containing the new school year information had come through, he hadn't recognized the name of his new roommate. So, someone new to the school. Maybe he'd be some clueless fucker, a frightened first-year, someone he could intimidate into leaving him alone.

Lovino attended Jones Academy, a military school on Mars which had originally been part of the mining development. Originally built by a private American company and named for one of their national heroes, the town and school had been placed here to take advantage of the rich mineral deposits. Businessmen had sent their sons here to develop a healthy appreciation for offworld life, to make new contacts, to instill a desire for space travel. Other students had been transplanted locals, attending this school while their families worked the new mines. Ores had been shipped back to Earth weekly, and the mining town had boomed. However, over the last twenty years or so, since the resources had begun to diminish, the town had become a ghost town, with only the barest of amenities; the facility had somehow evolved into a school for troubled boys. Delinquents, outcasts, minors convicted of crimes. Boys with nowhere else to go.

Or boys like Lovino, whose parents simply wanted to get rid of them for ten months of the Terran year. At first, he had actually been rather interested to attend, not knowing the atmosphere. With his cold home life, under the uncaring eye of his widowed father, anyplace had to be better, he'd assumed. Researching it ahead of time, he'd been suckered in by the glossy marketing photos, the overblown praise, which made it sound like a relaxed and healthy environment for growing boys.

And then he'd been plunged into the harsh reality, where instructors whipped students for the smallest infractions and turned a blind eye to interscholastic brutality. Slender, weak, and insecure, he had been an easy target for everyone last year. He'd made the mistake of complaining to his father, via sat-mail, and received the terse response "Deal with it." Predictable, really.

He'd stopped bothering with the complaints. Lovino had realized the only way out of it was to knuckle down, get through it, come of age, and leave. Though many days he still fantasized about the possibility of stealing a pod, steering towards an abandoned development somewhere, and trying to live there until he died. But that was just a fantasy. He knew he'd be too frightened to act on that, and he didn't know how to run a fucking pod anyway.

Plus, this place was no longer owned by the Americans, but by the goddamned Government. If he tried an escape and failed, he'd be dead, one way or the other. He knew he wouldn't survive long at all in a real Government prison.

He once again wondered whether his mother would have condoned his life out here, and once again concluded that if she were still alive, his father wouldn't hate him so much, and they'd all be together on Earth. But yeah. That was a fucking unrealistic expectation. Probably they'd have some shitty dysfunctional life just like he had now.

Lovino could remember learning about other times in Earth's history, times when youths under eighteen had been honored and treated well in society. Eras when attempts had been made to rehabilitate juvenile delinquents before they reached adulthood. Society wasn't like that now. You fucked up, you were branded for life. He wished he could make his father understand the kind of real danger he might be in from the lunatics here at Jones.

Maybe his father knew it already and was hoping for "the hand of fate" to remove Lovino from his list of problems. Well, fuck that. He would survive here, dammit. Survive and get away from the bastard when he came of age. He didn't deserve to be with these motherfuckers, but he'd make it through somehow.

It didn't take him long to unpack the rest of his belongings. First Muster wasn't until 1800 hours tonight, so he had some time to kill. Well, he had no interest in seeing anyone else. He'd write in his diary for a bit, maybe take a nap. Traveling by space pod was not only annoying, but exhausting. The other student in the pod, a cocky blond first-year named Martin, had spent the entire time bragging about himself, flirting halfheartedly with Lovino, and swigging something from a flask. Lovino had tried to ignore him, but it hadn't worked well. He was happy a pod could only hold two people. Dealing with some other bastards would have been even worse. At least the new ionic systems meant the trip took less than a day, rather than the three days it had taken last year.

He now spent a moment fuming over how so many of the fuckers at this school were blonds. Even the teachers! With his dark hair and eyes, skin more tan than the rest of the boys, Lovino always felt like a scrawny, ugly creature. Everybody knew blonds were prized highly by society. How come the bastards always had such twisted minds? Because they could get away with it? Antonio, that Spanish son of a bitch, had played on that. He was a green-eyed brunet and used his arguments to try to convince Lovino that they should stay together, be lovers, them against the rest of the world.

That ploy had been so obvious that Antonio's intelligence (if he even had any) had gone down several more notches in Lovino's estimation. What a fucking idiot. As if Lovino hadn't seen him making out with his blond friend Francis, or groping the other blond boys when he could.

But it had been so draining, fighting the bastard off every night, fearing to sleep in case Antonio tried to molest him, that ultimately, near the end of the year, he'd caved in. He needed to do well on his finals; Lovino refused, absolutely _refused_ to be held back a year at this miserable place. Yes, he'd known the goddamn security cameras would see them, but he'd made the fucker turn the lights off, and hide under the blankets, while he prayed that no inquisitive asshole was paying attention to their room on the security monitor in the admin building.

"One rule, bastard," he'd said, before the eager Spaniard had finally gotten his way. "Hands only. I won't use my mouth on you, and you can't – can't – " He hadn't even been able to make himself say it. "No kissing, no – _fucking_," he'd eventually spat. Antonio had been so happy to win this battle that he didn't mind the restrictions. Maybe he thought he was seductive enough to convince Lovino into those things, eventually. Hah.

Cooing Spanish phrases (which Lovino didn't understand and didn't care to) Antonio pleasured the Italian in many other ways. The sensation of the warm and talented mouth on him, the simple knowledge that _someone else_ was touching him, arousing him, instead of his own hand: that was a powerful feeling indeed. Lovino tried so hard to fight the sensations – partially to humiliate the cocksucker more, by making him work harder, and partially to prolong his own pleasure. While Antonio's hands and mouth were busy on him, Lovino sometimes caught himself wishing he'd given in to the Spaniard earlier in the school year.

But as soon as the tremors of his orgasms were over, his anger and common sense always returned, and he hated the bastard, and despised himself for giving in. In those intense moments just after release, Lovino wished he could have killed the stupid Spanish fucker, instead of allowing himself to be degraded this far.

On the other hand it was also very empowering to know that he could bring a hated enemy to his knees (as it were) through sex. That his admittedly harsh touch, his angry words, could still arouse Antonio and make him lose all control. Hah. Lovino was permitted to repay him with just a hand job, and Antonio professed himself content with that. Many nights the Spaniard couldn't even wait that long, and brought himself to his own hasty climax when he'd finished with Lovino. Other times he just wanted Lovino to watch and talk dirty to him while he worked himself.

It had been undoubtedly easier to get through the rest of the school year after he'd compromised. Instead of three or four hours of fighting, or sitting warily at his desk, unable to concentrate on his work, Lovino had earned himself a half hour of pure misery (well – _almost_ pure misery) right before bed, and then the bastard had left him alone.

One serious fear he'd had was that Antonio would start pestering him during the day, when they were out and about, but no. The stupid fucker had chased all the other boys during the day, and taken his pleasure with Lovino at night. In any case, there had only been three weeks of school left when he'd given in. It – it hadn't been so bad, except for his own self-loathing, his humiliation.

And that brief experience had had another side effect, which was that Lovino was now absolutely _obsessed_ with sex. He'd seduced a young housemaid this past summer, and dammit, hadn't that felt good! Her warm softness, the scent and sounds of her arousal – nh, _delicious_. Fuck, he'd absolutely loved the sweet games they'd played in his bedroom that afternoon. That may have ranked as the best day of his life.

Until the little bitch had gone running to the housekeeper, of course. What a fucking disaster it had become. The housemaid had been fired, Lovino punished. After that he'd contented himself with sneaking off to the bathroom to take care of things himself, or masturbating in the shower.

Fuck, all this thinking about sex was turning him on. He rubbed himself through his pants and wondered if he had time to jerk off right now. Reluctantly he decided not to; all he needed was for the new roommate to walk into the room in the middle of that. Shit.

Sighing, he laid face-down to write instead, grinding himself into the mattress a little. He wrote in Italian, although English was the official language of the academy. And he wrote longhand, in a paper notebook. Lovino was never certain whether electronic devices here were monitored by the authorities, but just in case, he wasn't going to risk keeping a diary on his computer. He wrote a lot of things that would be considered subversive. Also, if the other students could read his personal thoughts, he'd be humiliated.

Last summer, when he'd gotten home, he'd reread his old diary ceremoniously, to commit the pain and anger to memory, and then incinerated it page by page. To keep himself strong. He planned to do this little ritual every year. It was cleansing, in its own way.

Lovino covered his head and new green notebook with the blanket. He didn't know whether the security cameras could focus on the fine detail of his writing, but he didn't want to take that chance.

_Lovino Vargas, _he wrote at the top of the first page. He liked his name and drew a box around it_. It is nice to be alone here for a while, _he wrote;_ I hope my new roommate leaves me to myself_**.** He chewed on the end of his pen for a moment. He had brought a bunch of pens and notebooks, because you couldn't get them here easily; underclassmen weren't allowed down in the town often, and there wasn't much there anyway. Supply pods from Earth, slower than personnel pods, could take as long as a month to arrive. Bringing supplies along (although this limited his packing space for other things) ensured he'd have a full year's worth. He had a flashlight, too, for writing at night, but at this hour his window display was bright enough to illuminate the page beneath the blanket.

_I am actually rather frightened of not knowing this bastard. There is an old phrase, "better the devil you know than the devil you don't," but I think I'd be more upset knowing what kind of brutal shit I'm in for. I don't know anything about this guy except his name – Arthur Kirkland – and I hope that writing it in here doesn't jinx me. After spending most of my summer sleeping and recuperating I feel like I am strong enough to fight him, if I need to. I hope I won't need to._ He'd looked up that name at home and hadn't found any convictions, so he hoped the bastard wasn't a criminal. Fuck, how miserable would that be? Rooming with some murderer or rapist? Lovino threw his pen down in a nervous panic just thinking about that.

_I am going to try to get engineering duty this year,_ he eventually wrote, after calming himself_._ Every student was required to work an extracurricular job at the school. He certainly wouldn't choose kitchen duty, as he'd had to do last year; seeing that greeny-brown slop of unknown meat every day from the kitchen side of things had no doubt contributed to his severe weight loss. Never muscular, the enervated Lovino had returned to Earth a full thirty pounds lighter in weight. His father had simply directed the servants to bulk him up a bit. He shook his head at that memory. This year he'd brought a supply of full-meal pills, an entire nutritional serving in one pill. Quick, easy; he wouldn't be so debilitated by skipping meals anymore. Though he knew you weren't supposed to try to live off them, plus he didn't have enough for every single meal. Well, he'd work something out. He could live off bread, most of the time. It would be better than the bioengineered shit they cooked up; he was never sure how that kind of stuff affected a person's body. Oh, they _said_ it was healthy, but…

He doodled in the margins of the notebook a little, a tomato, a cat, but couldn't come up with anything else to write about yet. Slotting the pen into the notebook's spiral binding, Lovino stashed it between mattress and bed frame in a slim metal box he kept just for the purpose. He'd fitted it with a retinal scan lock. Yes, Lovino was paranoid, but here at Alfred F. Jones Academy, he had every reason to be.

…

When he woke up someone was lying in the other bed, facing the wall. Fuck, another blond. Lovino lay still and looked around the room, trying to awaken fully.

Then he realized it was nearly time for First Muster. Dammit, if he was late he'd get beaten again. "Hey," he said hesitantly, wanting to get the worst over with.

His roommate rolled over and stared at him with wide green eyes under eyebrows that were thick and dark. He nodded but didn't speak. Lovino waited, staring back, and the fearful expression on the blond's face reassured him. He didn't think any vicious bastard would look so scared. But he looked older than a first-year. Well, whatever.

Nothing happened. He sat up and said, "First Muster's in half an hour. We need to be there."

The blond nodded and sat up, scrubbing his hands through his hair. "I'm Arthur," he said, without making eye contact again.

He had a slight accent. English? Maybe; with that name it was probably so. Hard to tell from such a short sentence, though. Well, he'd find out eventually. "My name is Lovino."

The blond nodded an acknowledgement. The students slipped into shoes and left the room, locking it behind them.

…

First Muster: a big boring pain in the ass, basically. The staff and teachers all sat on the stage, keeping an eye on the audience for illegal or unruly behavior.

The fat bastard principal made a speech, introduced the teachers, who talked a little bit about themselves. Lovino didn't give a flying fuck, so he spent his time observing the students. Looked like a funeral, with all the students in the harsh grey uniforms they had to wear. Oh, here and there bastards tried to strike an individual note: guy with a white hat, bastard wearing black gloves for some reason. But on the whole, the uniforms were as somber as the atmosphere.

Dammit. Antonio was over there, pestering someone – some skinny dark-haired guy, who looked angry and was pushing the Spaniard away. _Better him than me._ There were a lot of new bastards this year. He was surprised that the noise level was so loud. A lot of people were talking to their neighbors, whispering and shit. Last year it had been as silent as the tomb during First Muster.

The new roommate – Arthur – sat next to him, not speaking, his eyes wide and on the stage. Lovino wondered just why the hell he looked so scared. Maybe someone had told him stories. The brunet scanned the seated students again.

Nothing really noteworthy. The students he did know were acting just as he'd expected them to.

Two hours later this shit was finally done. People poked their sleeping neighbors and everyone got up, stretching, to head back to the refectory for dinner.

Arthur stayed near him, but didn't try to engage in any conversations. That stupid Francis came by, leering, but Lovino ignored him, and Arthur turned his face to the ground. _Smart bastard. Stay out of everyone's way._ He just hoped Arthur wouldn't glom onto him. That'd suck. But if he tried to, Lovino would put him in his place. Bet on it.

…

_He looks kind of strong, _Lovino wrote in the diary later, by flashlight. _At least stronger than I am. (But then everyone knows what a weakling I am.) We went to the meeting, listened to the usual bullshit, and then everyone went to dinner. A few of the upperclassmen tried to taunt him, but – while he did seem to flare up into anger at that, he calmed down really fast and kept his eyes on the floor. This bastard hasn't said a word since he told me his name. He's asleep now. I'm glad. Let's hope this is a sign of things to come. If I can relax here in the dorm room, I'll be able to get through _anything.

He closed his diary, locking it securely away, and went to sleep.

…

_Note: Thank you for all your encouraging reviews. I'm doing a lot of research which I hope will make the whole story more believable. I don't really have an ending in mind for this one yet, either. It'll be interesting to see how it develops._

_For my non-American readers: a "military school" is a term used for a very strict high school with harsh discipline. (Like when Japan told Greece about the "Spartan education" in his country.) They are not necessarily run by the military or even designed to prepare students for the military. Since I am not planning to put Alfred in this story, I named the academy after him._


	3. Some Observations are Made

**Some Observations Are Made.**

A week later Lovino found himself in the first physical education class of the new school year. He hated sports. The only sport he was ever any good at was running, and here at school the only place to run was on a track inside. Lovino didn't like to run for exercise – he certainly didn't need it – but at least by running on the track, he could be alone with his thoughts, get the physical education credit, and avoid the stupid brutish games the other students played. The track was on the second level of the gym, like a balcony. He could run for his forty-five minutes and watch the gameplay below, if he cared to.

Today the other bastards were playing orfball. Orfball was a relatively new game that had been invented here a few years ago, and it was – well, brutal really was the only word for it. A lot of running, slamming into people; fights were not discouraged. Gameplay didn't stop for fist fights. Play was between three opposing teams of six members each. There were no time periods scheduled in interscholastic orfball games. Play continued until three or more players on a team were out (by dint of injury or committing three fouls), or until one team scored ten points. The longest game Lovino had ever heard of had lasted nine full hours. And the point of the game was so simple: score a point by getting the ball into your own goal.

In sports class, though, gameplay was limited by the time period allotted. Lovino ran and watched that popular brainiac Gilbert Beilschmidt, the annoying albino, deep in the heart of the game, laughing and joking. Every now and then he'd shove a fist into an opponent's face, an elbow into a gut, trip someone. For some reason the recipients of these blows always laughed and kept playing. Idiotic bastards. Why didn't anyone ever hit back?

He wondered how the fucking albino got to be so popular. In the lunchroom or between classes he always heard boys talking about how cool Gilbert was, how brilliant. What the hell was he doing here? Maybe he was like Lovino, sent here by parents who didn't care about him. Or maybe he'd done something cool and clever that was still illegal. Something that wasn't actually scary. Though he _looked_ like a fucking maniac.

On the floor below, Beilschmidt punched someone in the face again, laughing and running off with the ball. Zwingli? He'd punched _Zwingli?_ Dammit, he must have a death wish. Zwingli was one of the few bastards at this school that Lovino knew had actually been convicted. He'd lost control one day at his old school, storming into a room full of students and teachers and going on a shooting spree with an antique laser gun. Four people had died, including two teachers, before his weapon had failed. Lovino felt sick to his stomach, just thinking about that.

A huge blond student came by on the track, grinning at him inanely, and Lovino slowed his pace to allow the bigger boy to pass him. That guy, they all called him Killer. He didn't even know the bastard's real name. Lovino had overheard someone in the refectory saying he'd ripped a man apart with his bare hands, and looking at him, the Italian could definitely believe it. That was one fucker he was not going to tangle with! The Killer ran past, the track shaking to the pounding of his feet, and Lovino plodded on.

_I am possibly the only sane person on this entire fucking planet._

…

Later, after showering and taking the opportunity for a quick orgasm, Lovino came back to the room damp and wrapped in a towel. The school had sonic showers, too, but he appreciated the sensual feel of water striking his skin. His home had sonic showers as well as one old-fashioned water shower. He never had that refreshing, clean sensation after using the sonic ones, so he never bothered with them anymore.

Arthur, seated at his desk, didn't look up when he came back. The brunet dropped the towel and watched his roommate's reflection in the mirror, to see if he had even the slightest bit of interest, but Arthur kept his eyes on his tablet and continued working. Lovino shrugged, getting into comfortable lounging pants, and lay down to write in his diary before attacking his math homework.

He chewed on the pen for a while, not really knowing what to write. _Doesn't appear that Arthur is interested in sex, unless he's just really shy._ That seemed kind of bald and superficial, so he tried to follow it with something deeper. In the back of his mind was always the remembrance that he'd be rereading this at the end of the year, and he wasn't sure he wanted to reread a diary filled with speculation about his silent roommate's sexual preferences! _At least he's quiet. I'm doing much better in my studies already._

Sometimes Lovino did let his thoughts wander forward to a post-graduation time. What would he do with his life? He had no fucking idea. He didn't really want to be in the thick of some corporate bullshit. Often he supposed that he ought to learn how to grow crops, or some shit like that, in case he ever did make it to his lonely place. Or how to repair air and water converters. He'd need that knowledge to survive. But other than studying crop bioengineering, there wasn't scope for that here. Mars was not an agricultural planet. And the school didn't offer classes about useful things like machine maintenance. He had managed to get engineering duty, which was good – and he was even learning about the pods – but that was still a very narrow field of expertise. At least the bastard who ran the maintenance department, Oxenstierna, was pretty low-key. Other than bossing Lovino around a little bit too much, making him focus on every little detail, he wasn't that bad. Not like the goddamn principal, who got his rocks off by flogging everyone in sight. Bastard.

He tapped the pen against his teeth. One of these days he'd have to seriously start thinking about what he was going to do with his life.

…

A few days later he decided to go to the quad after classes. It was sort of a nice day – as far as days on this wasteland could ever get – and he thought it would be pleasant to sit and daydream a little. The Italian was feeling quite optimistic, since Arthur had not molested him, fought him, talked to him at all.

An older student, Von Bock, walked past, and nodded pleasantly to him. Lovino just twisted his mouth in a grimace and nodded. Someday he'd figure out what all these bastards had done to get sent here. Really, when he thought about it, other than Zwingli, and possibly fucking Antonio, everyone seemed fairly reasonable, considering. Jackasses, all of them, but nobody else acted like a murderer, arsonist, rapist, criminal. Maybe Francis. Still. You'd probably try hard to hide it, if you were one.

Lovino pulled out his tablet and stylus and began to work on his Esperanto, the artificial language used for legal proceedings. This was a ridiculous choice of elective – he wasn't planning to become a fucking _lawyer – _but at least it was easy. He finished the homework in about six minutes – a short essay on the history and development of the language itself, several hundred years ago – and powered down the tablet, slotting the stylus into its groove.

As he looked up, several things caught his attention:

That perverted bastard Francis was giving him the eye.

The annoying albino was watching Francis.

And Antonio was heading over towards Beilschmidt.

_Chigi!_ The three of them together? Lovino looked around wildly for an escape route, but there was none. He scooped up his things as if to leave, and fucking Francis leaped up and came over to stop him. "Hello, Lovino," he crooned, in what the bastard probably thought was a seductive voice, but wasn't.

Who the hell was Lovino trying to kid? It _was_ a seductive voice. His blood was racing already, dammit, and he hated this asshole. "Let me pass," he said abruptly.

But Antonio had come up to him on the other side. "Hello, little one. I haven't been able to spend much time with you this year yet." He grinned and ruffled Lovino's hair.

"Dammit, you're not going to. Let me _pass_, bastards." He tried to shove past them; they blocked his way.

Lovino wasn't aroused any more, he was terrified! And then Beilschmidt stepped in between the others and put his arms around their shoulders briefly. "Hey, guys. Want to come play some orfball? Promise I won't hurt you! Kesesese!"

Francis turned and smiled alluringly at the albino. "I don't care if you want to hurt me, Gilbert, as long as you make me feel better afterwards." He flipped his long hair away from his face and blew fucking Beilschmidt a kiss.

Antonio and Gilbert burst into laughter at that, and the albino dragged them both away. Lovino, breathing more easily now, watched them go, and when they were nearly out of sight, Gilbert turned to look at him with a mocking grin.

Shit. Now Lovino owed him, and the fucker knew it. He didn't waste any more time out in the quad, but hurried back to his room, and his silent roommate.

…

_Note: I changed the genres to Hurt/Comfort and Friendship, and I might change them again. Thanks for bearing with me._


	4. Barriers Begin to Break Down

_This chapter contains brief allusions to dub-con and attempted suicide._

_... _

**Barriers Begin to Break Down.**

Six weeks of a silent roommate was beginning to freak Lovino out. The bastard – Arthur – had not said one single word to him in all this time. Not a word. In fact, Lovino hadn't heard him say a word to anyone, except when asked a direct question in chemistry class – one of the only two they shared, the other being music. The blond always seemed interested in chemistry. In music, though, they were studying singing (at this fucking _prison!_ How lame!), and Lovino would swear that Arthur simply stood there staring at the lyrics displayed on the screen, opening and closing his mouth arbitrarily and not making a single noise. The blond never caught anyone's eye, never smiled, never spoke.

Lovino now wondered if he was one of those idiots who couldn't get along well in society. The kind who just sits in the corner talking to himself. But this kind of behavior made him worry – worry that someday soon, Arthur might erupt with anger and turn violent, if he'd been trying to hold it inside him. Lovino didn't want to be around, if that happened.

_Maybe I should have talked to him more?_

No. That would probably have made things worse. Lovino didn't want to expose himself to any trouble at all. Better to just keep silent, keep to himself. Things were perfect as is. They left each other alone, and Lovino was able to work and relax by now. Even the other bastards had seemed to lose interest in the Italian lately.

A supply pod had arrived today. Lovino's father had set up an automatic shipment of his favorite cookies – a cheap and stupid sop to his absent, unwanted son. But the cookies – shortbread – were in an unopened packet on his desk right now. He desperately wanted one; his meal pills were completely unfulfilling in that respect. How rude would it be to open it and eat a cookie in front of Arthur? The blond was seated at his desk, industriously working on something. Maybe Lovino could open the packet and sneak one.

Arthur hadn't waited around when the pod had been unloaded. Maybe he knew nothing was due for him.

Ah, what the fuck. The bastard hadn't bothered him. He could make a gesture. Lovino opened the wrapper, watching his roommate the whole time. The blond paused fractionally in his writing but did not look up, and then the stylus began tracking over the tablet surface again.

Lovino held out the packet. "Would you – " But his voice was weak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Would you like a cookie?" Why the hell was he so nervous? Did he expect his roommate to jump up and beat the shit out of him over a fucking cookie?

Arthur stopped working again. Seconds of silence stretched between the two, until he quickly muttered "Thank you" and took a cookie from the pack. All without looking up.

Lovino breathed a silent sigh of relief when Arthur began working again. He took out his own cookie and ate it.

_I really wonder why he's here._

…

"_Vaffanculo_! Leave me alone, motherfucker!" Lovino tried to fight off stupid Antonio, who had cornered him by the refectory. He kicked at the taller boy's shins but Antonio just laughed and grabbed his ass harder, pressing against his hips, trying to shove his tongue in Lovino's mouth. Fuck. He'd really hoped the Spanish bastard had lost interest.

And then Antonio abruptly yelled and sailed backwards across the room. Lovino looked up, eyes wide, to see Arthur standing next to him, fists clenched, a low growl issuing from his throat. He'd hit Antonio? Dammit, maybe he was here because he was too violent.

But the Spaniard sprang up and came at Arthur snarling. "Run," Arthur said to Lovino, pushing him away. "Run!"

Lovino stumbled and ran, and the last thing he heard before rounding the corner was the smack of a fist, and a snarled Spanish oath. Shit.

…

He'd run to his next class: the principal's beatings were brutal, if you skipped. Lovino had spent half the afternoon in a private panic zone, wondering whether the fucker had hurt Arthur, or vice versa, wondering what would happen if they were caught fighting.

When he got back to his room after work duty, his roommate was nowhere in sight. Lovino opened the cookie packet. Yeah, there were only two left. He picked one up and decided to save the last one for Arthur. He rewrapped the last cookie and put the packet on the blond's desk before sitting at his own to work. Eventually he finished his homework and moved to the bed.

_It's almost curfew. I wonder where he is. Is there some kind of detention cell that I don't know about? But people fight all the time around here. I've never heard of anyone getting in trouble for it, before. Or maybe Antonio beat him up so badly that he's in the infirmary._

Curfew came and went and there was no sign of Arthur. There was no official "lights out" time, so Lovino kept fiddling with his pen and failing to write. Eventually he decided to switch the lights off and try to sleep.

He locked up the diary and slipped off the bed, crossing to the closet to get his wash kit. His index finger pressed the button to slide the closet door open, but nothing happened. "Dammit." He punched the button again, two, three more times. The closet door began to shift, but still didn't open. Fucking busted door. Now he'd probably have to get Mr. Oxenstierna in here to fix it.

_"Chigi!"_ Lovino punched the button and managed to slide his fingers into the gap when it tried to open. He pushed it slowly open. Dammit, it felt like he was fighting the mechanism every inch of the way. He stuck his foot into the gap to hold the door and give his fingers a rest, and his foot shot backwards out of the gap, knocking him onto his ass and allowing the door to slam shut again.

"What the fuck?" Lovino was pissed now. He got up and put his back to the door jamb, sliding the closet door open with all his strength. This time he heard a grunt, which so astonished him that he stopped pushing. But the door did not slam shut.

Arthur was lying on the floor of the closet, curled up into a little ball, trying to shove the closet door closed with his hands.

"What the fuck are you doing in the closet?" Lovino barked, completely forgetting how Arthur had protected him that afternoon.

There was no answer. Arthur's hands just kept fighting to close the door.

"What kind of idiot hides in the goddamn closet?" he yelled again, angered at getting no response. He stepped back and Arthur managed to slam the closet door shut. Lovino kicked it in his anger.

Now he knew why Arthur was at Jones. He was fucking _insane_. Lovino felt a brief moment of sadness for the blond's parents, followed quickly by a rush of fear for himself. He backed slowly away from the closet door and sat on his bed with his back to the wall, watching, his heart pounding.

Then he got up and turned off the lights. But he wanted to see what happened; he was very worried now. He lay down to wait. Lovino didn't want it to be obvious that he was sitting up in fear.

A full hour later the closet door inched open. That was all that happened.

Lovino lay still and thought about this. There had been times when he'd felt like hiding in a closet, too, but he knew it wouldn't solve anything. So maybe this bastard wasn't a wacko. Maybe he'd just been unable to deal with something. If he'd gotten in trouble for fighting, maybe that was the only problem.

Maybe he'd beaten Antonio to death. Lovino smirked at that idea. He'd shake the bastard's hand, in that case, and give him all the fucking cookies he got for the rest of the year.

Half an hour later the door opened fully and he could see Arthur crawling out of the closet on his hands and knees. Lovino held his breath as the blond stood up and looked over towards him.

Then Arthur shuffled over to his own bed and lay down in the fetal position, fully-dressed, with his back to Lovino.

The brunet lay awake for at least another hour, half fearful, half curious, but nothing further happened. Eventually he fell asleep.

…

In the morning Arthur was not in the room. Feeling stupid, Lovino looked in the closet, but he wasn't there, either. Since he hadn't been able to write last night, he spared a few moments to scribble in his diary – _Something bizarre is going on with Arthur and I don't know what it is!_ – before getting ready to attend his classes. Well, they had chemistry today; he would at least see his roommate, see what was happening with him.

On the way to math class that bastard Francis collared him. "Your friend is dead meat," the blue-eyed blond hissed, shoving Lovino violently against the wall before pelting down the hall to his own class.

Did he mean Arthur? Lovino didn't have any friends.

But, ah – if Antonio had been hurt (or killed, though he knew that was highly unlikely), it was expected that Francis would be angry about it. Lovino shuffled through the crowds to math class, worrying this over and over in his mind.

…

Arthur, badly bruised, was in chemistry class. Instead of his usual inquisitive manner, he was slumped in his chair, eyes on his tablet, still as death. The chemistry teacher did not seem to notice this and taught with his regular drone. Lovino, lost in thought, tuned him out.

The blond did not appear at the evening meal. After wolfing down his food, Lovino hurried back to the dorm room, more worried than he would have liked to admit – though of course he called it curiosity, to himself.

Arthur was seated at his desk, working, and visibly shrank back when Lovino entered.

Dammit.

The brunet went immediately for his diary. He needed to talk to someone about this, and if he himself was the only one who'd listen, well, then he'd talk to himself. _Something is clearly quite wrong with this bastard. _He chewed the pen some more, unsure how to proceed. He didn't want to get too explicit in his writing.

Lovino tapped the pen against his teeth. Oh. He wondered whether Arthur had seen the cookie packet, had understood that last cookie was for him. He peeked out from under his blanket and saw the folded packet on his own desk chair. Arthur was still working. He did not look up.

_What matters here – the only important thing – is that he fought Antonio for me. Maybe the bastard just likes to fight? But he has never tried to fight with me._

Some more tapping, some more thinking. _Maybe he just wants to be left alone._

…

When he'd opened the cookie packet later, that last cookie had still been inside. He'd eaten it without mentioning it to Arthur. Maybe the bastard hadn't been hungry that day.

Lovino watched his roommate for a couple more weeks without making any overtures, and all he saw was that Arthur became more withdrawn (if that were even possible), that each time he had work duty he came back looking pale and weak, and that he seemed to eventually regain his focus in chemistry class. Was that crying he heard at night? Lovino was afraid to find out. He did not want to get involved. He'd thought it would be easy, having a weak roommate who left him alone, but it was actually rather distracting. He spent so much time wondering about the blond that he was beginning to neglect his own work.

Dammit. He should have thanked the bastard for fighting that day. But, shit, it was way too late for that now. If he hadn't been hiding in the fucking closet, Lovino would have remembered to say it, but that whole incident had been so weird!

_He looks quite haggard these days. I don't know what happens to him during work duty but he's clearly not happy about it. I don't even know what work duty he has. _

_Maybe I should talk to him?_

When he saw what he'd written, Lovino slammed the diary shut and locked it away immediately. He didn't need to try to make friends with some backwards nut case. He pulled the blanket right up over his head, even though it was broad daylight, and tried to force himself to sleep.

…

Arthur stumbled in later, while Lovino was catching up on his homework. Before the blond could hide his face Lovino noticed blood at the corner of his mouth and tears tracking down his face. "What the hell?" he blurted out.

No. He _did not_ want to get involved. Lovino turned his face to his homework and muttered, "Sorry, sorry, none of my business."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his roommate lie down with his back pressed right up against the wall, curled up and fully-dressed, not even taking his outdoor shoes off. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Lovino stopped working and watched.

In about half an hour, Arthur covered himself with his blanket, hugging his pillow to his face.

Lovino continued to watch, and as more time passed with no change in Arthur's position, he began to feel he was just as bad as all the other bastards at this fucking place. The blond had helped him that day, and now something was quite obviously wrong. It didn't matter what had happened in between. He could at least try to do something to help. He got up from the desk and quietly padded over to stand at Arthur's bedside. "Do you want to talk?"

Arthur violently shook his head _no._

Lovino swallowed and decided to man up. "Th-thank you for helping me get away from that bastard," he muttered, his voice breaking.

"Shut up!" Arthur yelled. "Just shut the hell up about it!" He rolled face-down and shoved his face into the pillow again.

Alarmed, Lovino stepped back, but other than the muffled sounds of sobbing, nothing happened. He walked to his bed and sat down, facing Arthur's bed, waiting to see what the blond would do next.

But Arthur didn't get up, didn't change position or speak. Eventually Lovino got tired and went to sleep.

…

In the morning Arthur was not in the room (or the closet). Only slightly worried, Lovino prepared for class.

Arthur was not in chemistry class.

Nor yet in music.

At the end of the day he went to their room and there was no evidence the blond had been there. The only other place he could have been – unless he'd tried to run away – was in the infirmary. If he'd gone anywhere else he'd have been spotted and chivvied to class. Unless there really was some kind of secret detention cell.

Lovino paced their room and failed to write anything coherent in his diary. He decided to go check the infirmary.

…

"Is Mr. Kirkland in the infirmary?" he asked the duty nurse.

The overweight nurse – possibly the most unfeminine specimen of womanhood ever born; her mustache rivaled that of Lovino's father! – narrowed her eyes at him. "So it's your fault?" she asked. "I'm not surprised, you little twerp."

Lovino backed away; he had no idea what she was talking about. But then she relented – if it could be called that. "Go see him," she said with a nasty grin. "Maybe you'll think twice next time you do whatever it is you did."

He hurried into the main sickroom without trying to decipher this – he was afraid she'd send him away if he lingered – and saw Arthur lying on a bed, weak and wan, with bandages around his left wrist. He'd broken his arm? Maybe that bastard Antonio, and maybe stupid Francis, too, had beaten him up? But he had no new bruises. The only other student in the room was snoring like a bear, so Lovino ignored him.

Arthur's eyes flicked to him, startled. It looked like he was trying to sink deeper into the pillows. Lovino could see that the blond was too weak to get up, too weak to threaten him, so he warily approached the bed. "Wh-what happened?" he asked quietly.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Arthur didn't answer, closed his eyes; tears began to fall.

Maybe this wasn't the best place to talk about it. "Will you be allowed to leave soon?"

A small shrug.

Lovino stepped closer and lowered his voice further. "When you come back to the room, will you talk to me?"

The blond's bright green eyes flew open and met Lovino's for the first time since the day they'd met. This brief contact lasted only a split second; Arthur looked down at his bandaged hand and began crying in earnest, shaking his head _no, no, no_ over and over, swiping at the tears with his uninjured hand.

Dammit. Lovino did not want to get involved!

But the ugly nurse was nowhere in sight. He leaned closer to Arthur and whispered, "Don't worry," although what he really meant was unclear even to himself.

Arthur just kept crying and shaking his head.

Lovino could coax no other response from him over the next ten minutes, so he went back to their room, frustrated and confused.

_I am so alone,_ he wrote, and then came to a halt.

Later he wrote _I don't understand anything about this. If those bastards had beaten him up, why wouldn't he just say so? It has to be something worse than that._

Lovino wondered what could be worse than that, and concluded that there were probably a million things other people would find worse. So that didn't help. He doodled a little in the diary before locking it up and getting to work on his homework, fiddling with his stylus the entire time.

…

The next day Arthur was back in class, although he hadn't been in the dorm room that morning. The chemistry teacher was almost malicious towards him, sneering at and mocking the blond boy, who kept his eyes down and failed to respond to any of the taunts. Other students snickered at this, but none too loudly – no one wanted to be singled out for this kind of shit.

Lovino went back to an empty room – rolling his eyes, but checking the closet, just in case. Arthur was not there. The Italian sat to work.

Half an hour later – much earlier than his usual arrival time – Arthur stumbled into the room as if pushed. The door slid shut behind him; he turned and fiddled with its lock.

Lovino watched him dump his book bag, shuffle to the bed, and sit on its edge with his head in his hands. He kept trying to flex the bandaged wrist.

A few times the brunet saw his head come up, as if he wanted to speak, or look at Lovino, but Arthur always caught himself and directed his gaze back to the floor.

"Are you all right?" Lovino finally asked him. It was a lame question, he knew; obviously Arthur wasn't all right, but he too was somewhat inept at socializing, and didn't know how else to phrase it. "What the fuck's wrong with you" was a little too bald.

The blond shook his head.

"Do you want to talk to me about it?"

Arthur pressed his lips together. To stop himself crying? He did seem to cry pretty easily. Then he shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. "What about the security cameras?" he whispered. "Can they hear us as well as see us?" He dropped his gaze after that.

Huh. "I've never been able to find out."

There was a short silence before Arthur asked, "Do they – do you get in trouble, if they think you're making friends with someone?"

Is that why Arthur had never spoken? To spare himself trouble? Maybe to spare Lovino trouble? "I don't think so," he admitted quietly. "But I never tried to make any friends before." That sentence startled him a little. Was he trying to make friends with Arthur? He didn't even know.

What the fuck. Arthur was the one bastard here that he was completely unafraid of. He'd see what happened. M-maybe this could be a good thing?

Arthur looked directly at him. Didn't say anything, but their gazes locked. The blond stretched out his bandaged arm in front of him and then let it fall limply onto his lap. He nodded, just once.

Lovino took a deep breath and walked over to sit next to him on the bed. Both of them instinctively turned their faces to the floor, in case the cameras picked up their conversation, in case someone could watch and read their lips.

He decided to start with the bandage and work backwards, if he got answers. Before he could phrase the question, though, Arthur muttered, "I just want to die."

"What?" Lovino couldn't stop the yelp that escaped him. But then he calmed down and faced the floor again; he didn't want to frighten his roommate, not now that he seemed to be acting somewhat normal. "S-sorry…why? What happened?" he whispered.

Arthur took some deep breaths. Lovino looked at the bandage and realized that maybe he'd tried to slit his wrist and failed? Fuck. Things had been bad here for Lovino, but never that bad.

But then maybe Arthur was just the dramatic kind of person to try shit like that.

"I beat up that son of a bitch," Arthur told him.

"You mean Antonio?"

"I don't even know his name. The one that was attacking you. I beat the shit out of him," Arthur said with a weak grin. "I love to fight."

"Thanks for that," Lovino said again, opting to offer some information of his own. "He's always trying to – you know, sexually – with other boys." He paused. "He was my roommate all last year."

"Did he ever – "

"Uh, well, well, eventually I got tired of fighting him, so he, uh..." Lovino couldn't keep the disgust from his voice; he couldn't believe he was confessing to this! "I guess he thinks I'd go to him again, but I – I wouldn't. And you – you stopped him."

"I love to fight," Arthur repeated sadly.

"Is that why you're here?"

"What do you mean?" The green eyes swiveled and met Lovino's again.

"Everybody's here because they're some kind of, of problem child, I guess," Lovino told him. "At least it seems that way. Some are actual criminals."

"What did you do? Why are you here?"

Lovino almost spat on the floor before catching himself. "I don't want to talk about it yet." He flexed his fingers and took a deep breath. Arthur – Arthur smelled so nice, he now realized, very clean and fresh, like a meadow, or something. It made Lovino want to relax his vigilance, rest against him, hold him. Dammit, this was arousing, sitting next to him, sharing thoughts in intimate tones, feeling the warmth of a body so close.

He needed to get his mind off that. "Did you get in trouble for fighting?"

Arthur nodded. "Oh, yes."

Lovino waited patiently.

"You know the principal?" Arthur asked him.

"Fat bastard, isn't he?" Lovino tried to joke. "Did he – did he whip you? I got whipped a lot last year."

"N-no," Arthur replied, tears falling again. He swiped at them with his healthy hand. "He threatened to tell my – my father about the fighting, and when I begged him not to, he said there was one way I could buy his silence."

Surely Arthur didn't mean – ?

"So I did it," the blond went on brokenly, dropping his head into his hands. "I sucked that motherfucker's cock for him."

Dear Lord. Lovino didn't know what to say or do, so he kept silent; his hands clenched into nervous fists.

"And he said he was pleased, and that he wouldn't tell my father." The blond looked over at the closet. "I was so bloody humiliated. That's why I was hiding in the closet. I couldn't believe I'd actually done it, and at that point I would rather he'd told my father. Because I was worrying, what if he told my father anyway? About the fighting _and_ the – the other thing? I wished I was dead. My father would kill me if he knew I'd done that. But I didn't have the courage to kill myself yet, that day."

"That fucking bastard has a lot to answer for." Lovino thought about all this. "But he wouldn't tell anyone about that – what you did to him, because it would make him look bad. So he probably hasn't mentioned it to your father."

"Well, no," Arthur continued in an even lower voice. Lovino had to lean closer to hear him. "Because he threatened me again. He's been blackmailing me, and I – and I – _every day_, instead of work duty – " He broke into loud, wracking sobs, folding his arms over his head, and this time Lovino did reach out and touch his hand, very briefly. "I just want to _die_."

"No. Don't die."

Arthur looked at him in anguish. "I can't go on like this. The other night – the night you asked me if I wanted to talk? He finally stopped making me – and instead he – he made me, er – he took – " His face was frighteningly pale.

"He _– _uh_ –_?" Lovino felt physically ill.

Arthur nodded and then shook his head _no_ and shrugged. "Well…he asked for my consent but I knew he'd do it anyway. What the hell could I say? Even though I'm fit, he could probably still beat the shit out of me. He's too big, and I was too scared. And – and if I did manage to beat him up and get away, what then? He'd either tell my father, or come after me and punish me again." His voice was very, very quiet.

"I don't get it, though," Lovino pointed out thoughtfully. "Bastards are always fighting around here, and I never heard of anyone getting punished for it."

"But if he does this to all the students – all the students – " Arthur's voice broke again and he cleared his throat. "Nobody would ever talk about it."

"He – he never did it to me. He whipped me, all the time, but…"

After that, neither spoke for quite a long time.

"If – if you could do anything right now, what would you do?" Lovino finally whispered. "Get revenge, or kill him, or what?"

Arthur shook his head. "The only way for me to be safe is to be dead. I'm going to try again this week. Don't be surprised if you wake up and I'm over here dead. Just let me be."

"Bastard!" Lovino hissed. "You can't do that! They'd think I killed you!" What a _bastard._

"Oh." The blond shrugged. "Sorry. Wouldn't want to make trouble for you." But he didn't sound convinced. "I'll do it somewhere else, then."

"No! Don't do it at all. _Don't._ There has to be something better."

"Why do you care? Just to spare yourself trouble? I don't mean anything to you."

Lovino thought about this. It was important for him to give a real answer. "Because nobody deserves to have that kind of shit happen. If you die, then the fuckers win. You should live, and get your revenge."

"Revenge is bullshit. If I killed the tosser, I'd go to jail, or just get executed anyway."

"Maybe there's a different kind of revenge," Lovino considered.

"Believe me, I already thought about biting his cock off," Arthur snarled.

This was so unexpected that Lovino let out a snort of laughter, alarming his roommate. "I'm sorry," he then apologized hurriedly. "I don't mean to make light of what you've gone through, not at all."

"No, I understand."

"But you helped me, and now you're suffering for it. That has to count for something."

"Maybe. But what the hell could we do? We can't start some bloody student revolution."

"No."

They thought a while. "You asked why I was here," Arthur offered. "Drugs."

"You're an addict?" He didn't look like one, though maybe all this melodramatic shit was addict behavior.

But the blond actually smiled a little. "No. I'm very good at developing mood-altering drugs. It's fun. I love to see how people change their behavior when they're under the influence. I make them, and when I can, sell them. I made a ton of money at my last school, but my father found out. So he decided to send me here. He thought that was a better step than keeping me at home and risking an arrest. He also said there would be a fairly limited scope for my activities." He shrugged.

Lovino wondered what kind of mind could come up with shit like that. That must be why he was so interested in chemistry. But – "Does it?"

"Does what?"

"Does it present a limited scope for your activities?"

Arthur shrugged. "I know the stuff for Spotlight is in the chem lab. I just can't get to it because the blasted supply closet is always locked. I've been pinching little amounts anyway, when I'm in there for other supplies, but to really get going I'd need full access to it. I probably have enough for two, maybe three doses." His mouth twisted in a grimace.

"What the hell is Spotlight?"

"Oh." Arthur shrugged. "It's what I named one of my drugs. Makes you feel so good, like you're in the spotlight. I know it's kind of lame, but I had to call it something."

"Uh." Lovino's brain was going faster than his mouth. "If you – well – people like this shit?"

Arthur, who still had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, turned to face Lovino. "Hundred thousand Galactic dollars, last year," he grinned with pride.

"What? Bullshit. You're lying."

The blond's grin faded abruptly and he scowled at the floor. "I don't lie. If I did, I'd have lied about beating up that stupid son of a bitch, and saved myself all this."

Lovino pressed his lips together. "Yes. Right." Dammit, he needed to think before he spoke again. That had been a really coarse comment. He lowered his voice again. "What work duty did you draw this year? Usually they make the first years do all the shit work, but you're older, right?"

Arthur nodded. "I'm in my second year."

"Me too. I keep telling myself I'll make it through, but…sometimes I wonder whether that might not be true." Lovino sighed.

"I'm supposed, _supposed _to be on kitchen duty, but ever since that fight – "

"Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Fuck, couldn't he say anything right? He was just as socially inept as the rest of the backwards bastards at this place. Lovino snorted in self-disgust.

"What about you?" Arthur asked, after a while. "What's your work duty?"

The brunet smiled mirthlessly. "I work in engineering."

"You're kidding. That baffles me."

"It used to baffle me. But I wanted to learn to work the pods, in case I ever had the balls to escape."

Arthur looked at him in amazement. "You know how to work a bloody _pod_?" he whispered.

"Cheh, now I do. But I've never been able to figure out how to get away. I mean, I'd have to get to the dock without anyone stopping me, get past the guard on the dock, open the gate, get into the pod and launch it. And have the coordinates for some destination. The chances of being able to do all that without getting caught are almost nil. And then, I'm sure the fuckers could trace a pod. It's just a question of whether they'd want to bother. Maybe if I could get one of the older pods, and go far enough, they wouldn't bother, but how could I even tell? If I got caught I'd be dead."

"I see what you mean." The blond seemed to be thinking. "If you had your pod, where would you go? Back to Earth?"

"Nothing there for me," Lovino spat. What the hell, Arthur had been telling him all his life shit, might as well tell him something in return. In a very quiet tone he described how his mother had died giving birth to him, and something about that had angered his father so much that Lovino had become little more than a financial burden. Servants had raised him, friendless and isolated in the big house, until he'd come here and found it even worse. "Every time the bastard looks at me, it's like I'm dirt on the bottom of his shoe, like I'm the biggest fucking regret of his entire life. I wouldn't go back. I really hate him, hate how he's so cold to me. I mean, yeah, technically it was my fault she died, but what the hell! I was just a baby."

His voice had risen in anger and Arthur made shushing motions.

Lovino nodded, returning to a whisper. "And this place is so much worse than I'd expected. It's actually worse than my fucking home life. No, if I could find someplace without any people, that's where I'd go. An old mining town, or something, as long as the air and water converters were still working. I just want to be _alone._ Not have to worry about fucking social strictures, or authority figures, or any shit like that."

Arthur nodded. "It's getting late," he pointed out, after they'd sat in silence a while.

"Are you tired? If you want to go to sleep that's all right with me."

"Don't you want to? I know you stay up late and write every night."

"H-how did you know that?" Chigi! If he'd cracked the retina scan –

"I can hear the pen on the paper."

"Oh." Lovino relaxed again. "I – I don't mind staying up, if you want to keep talking?" This was not too bad.

"I haven't talked to anybody this much in the last year," Arthur replied quietly. "Since my dad caught me."

An idea was forming in Lovino's mind. Maybe it would have happened naturally, but maybe saying it out loud would make it stronger. "I think we should make a deal."

The green eyes narrowed. "What kind of a deal?"

Lovino twisted his fingers together in his lap. "Like a – a safety pact. That everything we say in this room, we never tell anyone else. Ever."

"Who the hell would I tell? Oh," Arthur realized. "You mean if the bloody principal, or someone, asks – "

"N-no, that's not what I meant. I mean, we are always safe in this room. We can be honest with each other, and say what we mean, and agree not to be harsh with each other or whatever. This room is our safe zone. I – can see that when we're around other people, we might want to act cold and distant towards each other. If the bastards know that we – that we, uh, have started to confide in each other, they might make it worse for us. If we make sure that we always have a safe haven in this room, then – then – " Lovino didn't quite know how else to phrase it, and shrugged.

"You – you mean, like friends?" The blond looked at his bandaged wrist again. "I've never had a friend. Not one."

"Neither have I," Lovino confessed, squeezing his other hand briefly.

…

They turned off the lights but stayed up late talking that night, trying to come up with a way to help Arthur avoid the principal's sick sexual punishments, but other than outright defiance (which would solve nothing) they couldn't think of anything. "I'm allowed to skip work duty for a week, because of the – because of this," he said, displaying the bandaged wrist. "Of course I failed at it." He started crying again. "I'm such a bloody loser. You don't have to try and help me."

"Don't," Lovino responded simply, inhaling Arthur's refreshing scent, as he'd been surreptitiously trying to do all evening. "Just don't." He awkwardly rested his hand on his roommate's shoulder. "Please be strong. Together we can come up with something. Just – just _survive_, all right? Don't – don't leave me alone here. Not now." Lovino, whose emotions had been so tightly stretched tonight, began to sniffle as well, and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Please."

Arthur, head in hands, nodded. "All right. I'll try." He sat up straighter and held out his healthy hand to Lovino. They shook on it. "Let's get some rest. Meet you here after classes tomorrow?"

"I have work duty, but yeah." Lovino sniffled. "Good night."

"Good night, Lovino," Arthur whispered. "Sleep well, and – and, thank you."

"You too. Do you mind if I write for a while?"

"No. I'm so tired it won't keep me awake."

"Okay. See you in the morning. Get some rest. Stay strong."

In the end, Lovino wrote only one sentence in his diary.

_I am no longer alone._

…


	5. Learning to Trust

**Learning to Trust.**

In chemistry class, Lovino tried to take more of an interest. He wanted to understand just what made Arthur so keen on this shit. He wasn't interested in it at all, and while he did find some of it worth remembering, it wasn't something he'd want to stick with.

Last week the blond had admitted that he too had no idea what to do with himself after graduation. But then, he'd pointed out, he hadn't expected to live that long. Face turned down to his tablet, he'd haltingly thanked Lovino for his support and constant intervention, assuring him that it was doing a great deal of good. Arthur had blushed a little while he'd said it, and Lovino had just wanted to reach out and caress those pink cheeks.

Of course Lovino wanted to caress a lot more than that. Now that the two of them were becoming relaxed around each other, he frequently (perhaps more frequently than he cared to admit) found his fantasies centering on a safe, calm and sharing sexual playtime with Arthur, rather than his old dreams of generic hands and mouths that pleasured him with no regard for their own satisfaction.

But he knew his roommate was still disturbed about sex, after all that bullshit with the fucking principal, and so Lovino kept masturbating in the shower, though he did swipe Arthur's shower gel from time to time. Dammit, that was arousing, smelling the blond's fresh scent as he rubbed his hands on his wet, soapy body. Now he always pretended those hands belonged to Arthur. But he very much feared that any real attempt to fool around with him might destroy their tenuous trust and could even cause the blond to attempt suicide again. Lovino did not want that on his conscience, so he kept his hands and fantasies to himself.

Each evening they'd meet in the room after work duty, sharing tentative smiles, but it still took them both close to an hour to really relax in each other's company. One very good bit of news was that the principal, disgusted with Arthur's suicide attempt (or perhaps simply not wanting a student's death on the records), had stopped abusing him and allowed him to go back to his scheduled kitchen duty after one last whipping. Arthur had cried a little in relief when he'd gotten back to the room that night. Lovino, too, felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him. Maybe now Arthur would finally stop all this talk about killing himself, which he still brought up from time to time.

"I'm terrible at this rubbish," Arthur now said, as they worked at their desks.

"What is it? Maybe I can help."

"Japanese. I don't even know why the bloody hell I signed up to study it. It's not like anybody uses these dead languages anymore."

"Sorry. Don't know anything about that. You should have taken Esperanto. It's really easy. Stupid, but still easy." Under their desks, which faced each other, Lovino rubbed his foot against Arthur's. He saw the tiny smile on the blond's downturned face and felt the answering pressure against his own foot.

They'd started out their awkward relationship by trying to sit still, across from each other on the floor or side-by-side on a bed, and talk in whispers, just as they'd done on that first groundbreaking night. But it was too difficult to maintain that, especially when there was homework to be done. Over time, as they had begun to trust in the friendship blossoming between them, they'd been able to move apart from the intense whispered conversations and simply act normally in the room, talking of homework or their classmates, quietly sharing thoughts. Neutral conversations. But that had seemed very clinical. So they'd started coming up with subtle secret ways of reassuring each other that they were still in harmony, still working together to look after each other. Ways that a camera viewer would not be able to discern. Lightly touching each other like this was one of the little ways.

Tonight Arthur struggled with the Japanese for a little while and then threw his stylus down in disgust. "Bollocks. I hate this."

"Work on something else for a while." Lovino was finishing up an essay about the history of human development on Mars.

"I wish there was something else to do around here besides homework and work duty."

"What about sports?" Lovino hated them, of course, but maybe Arthur would be interested?

"Eh. Don't like all that roughhousing shit. Get beat up more often than not, in games class. I like fighting, but when it gets to be three or four on one…no."

"Why don't you run instead?" Lovino wondered. "That's what I do."

"Tried that too, but there are a couple of wankers who spent the whole time shoving me around and taunting me. I'd rather be down in the gym where I can at least be on the outskirts of gameplay, run away, and not be an isolated target." Arthur's voice was harsh.

Lovino rubbed his foot again. "That's pretty smart thinking. I guess I just got lucky; nobody bothers me when I run. Just that creepy maniac Killer, but all he does is leer at me and run past."

"That's good." The blond picked up his stylus again and began to write. "Ah, I should be able to finish this tonight if I can just focus. Sorry for all the complaining."

"Pfft. Complain all you want, bastard. It's not like I'm sitting here being the picture of fucking etiquette."

This made Arthur grin widely at him, but then he hurriedly wiped the smile from his face and returned to the Japanese homework, pulling his foot away from Lovino's.

Well, they both still had a long way to go before they could socialize normally, Lovino supposed, even just with each other. He powered off his tablet and lay down to write in the diary.

…

"Why don't we work in the library tonight?" he suggested the next morning. He was in a very good mood today; neither of them had work duty tonight. "It's usually not too bad. Most of the bastards would rather be out fucking around than studying in the library. At least it would be something different."

"I don't mind." Arthur was struggling to get all his things into his book bag. "I don't have any tests or things coming up where I really need to concentrate. Just the bloody Japanese."

"Dammit, I'm telling you, switch to Esperanto next semester. I can help you with it."

"Whatever!" Arthur finally managed to get the last item into the bag and closed it. "S-sorry. I'm so sorry, Lovino. I d-didn't mean to yell. So, er, I'll meet you in the library?" His face was quite red.

Poor frightened bastard. Lovino patted his shoulder to reassure him. "Huh, well, meet me by the library door, and then if things don't look – uh – calm, there, we can go somewhere else, to the quad or something."

"All right." Arthur pushed the button to unlock their door and they left together, silently.

…

It did seem pretty safe in the library tonight. Oh, there were isolated people here and there, and a couple tables had small groups of people at them, but the noise level was low, and there were plenty of empty tables. When Arthur arrived, Lovino jerked his head towards a table near the window, and they sat.

For a while, nothing much happened; Lovino asked about something to do with chemistry, and Arthur complained again about the Japanese homework. At one point he stopped writing and held his stylus out to Lovino with a quizzical little look; the brunet swapped it for his own.

This was another one of their little things. It made Lovino feel like some stupid preteen girl, trading her stylus with her crush, but he could see it brought some reassurance to Arthur, so he didn't really mind doing it. Hell, a stylus was just a fucking stylus; friends shared shit like this all the time. He began to work again, rubbing his fingers over the stylus and smiling a little.

A little while later Lovino glanced up from his work, because he heard that perverted bastard Francis talking to someone. Shit. He didn't want to get accosted again; he feared that Arthur would get in a fight, and that would lead to more trouble.

Oh, Francis was talking to Martín. Dammit, that bastard was so full of himself! Both of them were. Lovino couldn't make himself look away, but he could tell Arthur was resolutely trying to ignore the other two blonds; his hand kept stopping in its writing and then ferociously beginning again.

"_Mon cher _Martín, come and play with me a little," Francis said boldly, running a finger along the Argentinean's jaw with a flirtatious smile.

"Please don't," Martín said, pushing the hand away gently. "I'm not going to fool around with you, no matter how much you want me to."

Francis deepened his tone. "But why? I see that you are not with Manuel lately. Surely you need the expert consolation that only I can bring you?"

Lovino fidgeted in his seat a little. Damn that stupid French bastard and his stupid sexy voice!

"What you fail to understand is that I am committed to my relationship with Manuel," Martín pointed out, still with a smile. "I keep telling you this. I'm not going to run around with someone else just because _mi flaco_ is angry with me. Eventually I will win him back, and I don't want to have to explain to him that I cheated while he was away. Certainly not with you, you son of a whore."

Francis ignored the insult. "That's not sensible at all." He pressed closer, but Martín pushed him away, still smiling.

"It's quite understandable that you want to be with me," he pointed out, "everyone does, but you must get it through your head that I'm not going to do it! I'm working on my plan for getting Manuel back. And I will succeed. Just watch me. Go play with your trashy little cunt Antonio."

Lovino snorted at that.

Francis pouted, but nodded. "_Bien._ Just remember, delicious little Martín, if you ever change your mind, I'd love to show you what I can do."

"It won't happen," Martín replied. "Manuel has my heart, even if he tramples on it occasionally. Nobody else is going to split us apart."

"_Bien_," Francis repeated with a shrug, moving off.

After another minute of lounging, the smirking Martín left as well, winking at Lovino, who had continued to stare.

He was frankly rather surprised at that whole exchange. Very surprised to hear the arrogant Martín state so baldly that he was committed to another man. Surprised, too, that Francis had accepted the insults and explanation relatively easily, and gone off. "Bastards."

"What?" Arthur finally looked up.

"Nh. Nothing. Sorry." Lovino turned back to his homework.

…

_I wonder just what it is about Martín that made Francis respect his words? I know if I tried telling the perverted bastard something like that, he'd just laugh and grab me, unless Arthur was around to intervene. Despite Francis' bold words about Arthur being 'dead meat' that day, he's always been scared of him, ever since Arthur beat up Antonio. I still catch him – both of them – leering at me, but if Arthur's around, they never approach. I wonder if Antonio got into any trouble for fighting, that time? Dammit, I hope so._

_But the French bastard probably knows about – last year_, he fudged. He didn't want to read about that next summer, when he burned the diary. _So he probably already thinks of me as weak and not able to fight back._

_I never did find out just what the hell the Argentinean bastard's doing here. Maybe he's a criminal. The pervert wouldn't want to do anything risky to him, in that case. Of course I don't know what the French fucker's here for, either._

He tapped his pen on the diary a few times. _Could I make up a fake story about Arthur, like Martín's story about Manuel? But that wouldn't really work. Not unless I asked Arthur about it beforehand. I wouldn't want it to get back to him like a rumor._

_I don't think he'd want to have that kind of an association with anyone, either. The bastards would assume we were sleeping together, and that might make things awkward for him. No, I won't try it._ Lovino squirmed on the mattress a little, listening to his roommate's subtle snores. _But maybe there's some other way to make them stop pestering me._

…

Later in the week Lovino headed to work duty. He wasn't in the mood for it; he would much rather have been spending time with his new friend, but he absolutely didn't want to court trouble by skipping work. Mr. Oxenstierna greeted him pleasantly and directed Lovino to bring him a repair kit. The air converters for the school needed maintenance.

The Italian tried to control his interest and fetched the proper repair kit. Together he and the maintenance man checked and rechecked the air converter as Oxenstierna taught him the proper functioning of the unit. He paid quite close attention to everything the man taught him that day.

Of course he didn't get to learn about the entire operation of the unit, but it was a start. After work duty he hastened back to his room. "Please don't interrupt me," he begged Arthur. "There's nothing wrong, but I need to write down a bunch of shit before I forget it."

"That's fine," his roommate said, working on his own projects.

When he'd transcribed everything he could remember about the air converters into his diary, he locked it up and sat back on the bed. Arthur had been done with his work for a while now and had taken his tablet to the bed, to recline and read.

"Do you believe in fate?" Lovino asked idly. He was still amazed at the fact that Oxenstierna had suddenly begun to teach him about air converters, the one thing he'd wanted to learn and had never considered he'd get the chance for.

"Eh. Never really thought about it." Arthur set his tablet down and looked at his friend. "I suppose there's a possibility of it. I mean…what if they'd put me in with Antonio after the school split you two up?" He made a face.

"Th-that's actually a really good point." Lovino considered this. "Can I come over and talk to you?"

"Sure. Here." Arthur sat up and the Italian joined him on the bed. "What made you think about fate?"

Lovino explained in a low voice about tonight's work duty.

"Eh," Arthur said again. "I think it's just dumb luck. I mean, you have the job, you're going to have to deal with whatever comes up, you know? Though I agree it's a bit out of the blue."

"Yeah. I hope he keeps teaching me about them."

"Just show willing," Arthur suggested. "The more interested you are, the more likely he'll teach you."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." Lovino took a deep breath. "I have to get my homework done now."

"'S all right. I'll probably go to sleep a little early. I'm really tired."

Lovino reached out a hand to his roommate's forehead. "Not sick, are you?"

"No," Arthur smiled. "Just tired. Nothing to worry about."

"All right, bastard. Get your sleep." He went back to his desk to finish his work.

…

"Tell me about your family," he asked one night, after they were both done with homework. The two of them were sitting in the dark, on the window seat facing each other; it was big enough for them both to sit without crowding each other. Lovino had turned off his window display; they were absently gazing out at the distant and derelict town while they talked in low tones, their feet comfortably nestled together in the middle of the seat.

"All I have left is my father," Arthur started out.

"A bastard, huh?"

"What? Not really; not any worse than most fathers, I guess. Why did you think that?"

Huh, Arthur seemed genuinely surprised. "Uh, well, when you – uh – got in trouble for fighting" – dammit, why did he have to bring this up again? – "you said you were afraid he'd find out."

"Oh. Well, he hates it when I get in trouble, but I think he was kind of a rebel when he was younger, too. I think he understands, but he hates it because he doesn't know what to do about it. He's not bad to be with, if I've been behaving myself."

Lovino wondered what that would be like. He was also happy that Arthur wasn't dwelling on his clumsy comment about those bad times earlier this year. "Bet he was pissed off about the drug thing," he said in a very low tone.

"I – I don't really know. I often caught him looking at me with – with speculation? Wondering about me, maybe? Not with disapproval at all. I mean, he took the hard line about the drugs, lecturing me, but…I don't know."

"Do you write to him?"

"No. He doesn't want to be bothered. I – I'm trying to do well this year, now," Arthur confessed, "mostly thanks to you, and then I can surprise him with a good report when I get home." He smiled.

Lovino felt relieved at that. He'd assumed Arthur's father was a bastard like his own, and had more than once worried and wondered about what kind of punishments might be in store for the blond this summer. But it sounded like he'd be all right.

Arthur cleared his throat. "That reminds me, though. Do we – er – " His face turned red, visible even in the moonlight, and he looked out the window instead of at Lovino.

"What is it? You – you know you can ask me whatever you need to ask."

"Do we have to ask to be roommates next year?" Arthur muttered. "Or do they automatically put us together again?"

"Oh." Lovino poked him with his foot. "Don't worry. You're stuck with the person you get, unless there's some major problem."

"Like you and the Spanish git."

"Yeah. I – I'm just glad my bastard father took me seriously, when I asked for a new roommate."

"Me too."

Lovino took a deep breath and asked a question that he'd been wondering about for a while. "How about your mother? Is she – is she – "

Arthur shrugged. "Apparently she ran off right after I was born. Pretty much as soon as she was healthy enough to go."

"What? Why the fuck would someone do that?"

"Er. Well, my – my father was…"

Lovino waited.

Arthur took a deep breath. "When I was little, he just told me my mother wasn't with us anymore, and I – I spent a lot of time wallowing in these sad fantasies where she'd loved me so much, and died some tragic death, you know?"

"Yeah. I know exactly what you mean." Lovino had made up those kinds of scenarios, too.

"But when I was twelve, he told me the truth. She – she'd caught him in bed with another woman."

"Fuck! What the hell did she do about it?" Dammit, if he'd ever found his lover in someone else's arms, he'd –

"N-nothing right away. A few days later she packed up and left and he never heard from her after that. She took a bunch of shit, too, a lot of his savings, and all that. He says that's why we don't have much money, why he works so hard. We used to be pretty well-off, from what he tells me, but now he works as a laborer with Section D, and we live in a little ground-floor apartment."

This was very depressing news. Lovino tried to imagine someone taking all his father's money, and shivered at the thought of what the bastard would do to get it back. "But you're at a fancy school," he said in a questioning tone. "Sort of." He knew this place was expensive, if not exactly fancy.

"Well, he – he works a lot of overtime. He says it's to give me a better life. Pfft. The truth is he can't keep his dick to himself; he needs money for all these sodding women he's always trying to seduce, and I think he just wants me out of his hair. That's why I started selling the drugs; I wanted to make some money for myself, because he just keeps throwing his earnings away on women." Arthur's voice was sad and quiet.

"And yet you say he's not a bastard."

"Well, he still takes care of me. Mostly."

Dammit. Lovino was getting very depressed. They sat together and stared out at the domed view; he decided never to ask any more questions about Arthur's life.

In a little while he got off the window seat. "Do you mind if I write?"

"No. I'm going to sit here and daydream a little."

"Okay. Good night, Arthur."

"'Night."

…

On yet another day they wandered the grounds together. When the area had been colonized, large excavated rocks had simply been dumped outside the construction zones. Now these boulder fields were typically swarming with students either slacking or fighting; manmade paths ran between them to provide a route from school to town. Today, though, the path was clear, the rocks mostly empty. Arthur had finished in the kitchens a little early, so they'd decided to get some exercise before it got dark.

Lovino liked it when they walked around outside together. There was very little chance of them being overheard, and no fucking security cameras, either. "The day we met," he now asked, "you seemed so scared. And after that. You never talked to anybody. And – and when you tried to – to – uh – is – is that how you've always been? Or is it just because of this place?" Yeah, he'd promised himself never to ask questions, but he needed to know this. Needed to know how to make sure Arthur would stay secure.

"I always tried to be friendly and outgoing before. Even before I started trying to convince people to buy my drugs. I…never understood why nobody wanted to really be friends. Oh, there were always blokes who needed a mate for a kick-around, or needed somebody to help with their homework, or whatever. But at the end of the week I was always just alone. Sometimes I thought about suicide, but it was mostly just an idle daydream. Things weren't ever _that_ bad." He took a deep breath and stared up at the sky as they walked on. "But when I got sent here, I – I felt like suddenly life was full of hidden traps. The littlest thing, the tiniest little thing could…could fuck things up and twist my life around so much. That's when I started getting obsessed with the idea of killing myself. I felt like the only way to be safe was to eliminate all those possible traps, and the only way I could think of to avoid _all_ the possible traps was to take myself out of the game."

"I remember you said something like that, that night," Lovino agreed. "You – you're not still thinking of doing it, are you?"

"Not often," Arthur confessed.

"What? You mean you still do think about it?" His face paled, he could tell. Dammit!

Arthur shrugged. "N-not too seriously anymore. I am h-happy," he muttered, "to have found a friend, and so now I have someone else to worry about, not just me. Don't want to abandon you to all this."

"Thank you," Lovino told him, surprisingly heartened, reaching out to pat his shoulder briefly. "Don't worry. We'll stick together and get through it somehow."

Arthur gave him a little smile and the brunet led them back to their dorm room.

…

_The poor bastard is still so scared. But I can tell we are both making a little progress._

Later, he picked up the pen and wrote, _I think I'll stop calling him a bastard._

…

_**Note:** Thanks to Kastiyana for the Martín help, as usual._

_I hope you're not getting my author's notes confused with Lovi's diary entries!_


	6. Progressive Ideas

**Progressive Ideas. **

"If I took some of your shit, it wouldn't kill me, right?" They were walking around outside again. The artificial weather was cold under the dome, but Lovino had wanted the privacy to talk.

"What? You mean Spotlight?"

"Or whatever. Any of them." He was intensely curious. "How many are there?"

"I'm not going to let you take them! You wouldn't die unless you did something dumb, but – I'm not going to let you do it, Lovino. I just won't. Promise me you won't?"

The brunet was a little surprised at this vehemence. "All right! I promise you. Don't get so worried. I was just curious about it. Anyway, where would I get it, stupid? If you won't give it to me." They walked on a little. "Did you ever try it? Any of them?"

"I always tested each batch before I started selling. Just a tiny bit, to make sure there was nothing wrong with them. But I can tell by taste; I don't need a full-on high to know if it's right. They don't kill, even in overdoses, though you might die if you did something dumb while you were high. Like if you thought you could fly and leapt off a building. Why are you asking me about all this?" Arthur looked very disturbed.

"I don't even know." He took a deep breath. "Well, yes, I do know. I was thinking about something." But he stopped speaking after that. His idea was stupid, he knew.

"Is this why you wanted to come out and walk in the bloody freezing fake weather?" But Arthur was grinning at him now. "So we wouldn't be overheard?"

"Yeah," Lovino laughed. What the hell. His friend wouldn't make fun of him. "Remember I told you I wanted to steal a pod and escape?"

"Yes?"

"I thought, maybe if we could get people addicted to your drugs, it would be easier to escape. To get to the pod and launch it, if they were all high at the time, or whatever."

"Y-you're still thinking of that?" The blond looked paler than usual, though that might have been from the cold weather.

Lovino couldn't figure out why this would be distressing him. "What do you think? Dammit, I don't want to stay here a minute longer than I have to! There's still three fucking years to go after this one!"

Arthur stumbled on the path. "I. Er. Well, you – your plan, if you – " But he didn't seem able to articulate whatever was bothering him.

Lovino stopped walking. "What? What's the matter? I mean, if you really don't want to get involved in drugs again, I – I understand. It was mostly just a stupid fantasy. I know it'd be impossible to get every staff member at this fucking place high enough, all at the exact same time."

"Th-that's not it. I – " But he stopped again, both speaking and walking, and stared at his shoes.

"You don't want to leave this place?" Maybe that was it. Maybe he was afraid of what his father might say or do, if he ran away.

"What? Of course I do! What does – _oh._" His face cleared. "You – you mean for both of us to escape together?" He sounded almost fearful.

Oh. Maybe Lovino hadn't been clear. "Idiot! I'm not going to leave you here while I run off!" The expression of relief on Arthur's face was like a blow to Lovino's heart. "Uh. I mean. If you'd want to go with me." He turned his gaze to the rocks on the side of the path, and they started walking again. "Understand me?" he said gruffly.

"I understand," Arthur replied in a much happier voice; "I'd go."

"Good." Lovino still couldn't look at him. Dammit. "P-plus then we'd have some cash, whenever we got to where we were going."

"I thought you wanted to go to some abandoned place?"

"Shit, yes, but what are the chances? Anyway, it can't hurt to have money."

A few minutes later they turned to head back to the room. "There are just a few problems with that idea," the blond then mused, in a perfectly reasonable tone. Lovino felt himself able to look at him again.

"Like what?"

"First of all, they're not addictive. Not in the classic sense. Yeah, you might be desperate for a high after a while, but it's not a physiological thing, just a mental desire. And for another thing, I still don't have open access to the supplies I need."

"Maybe we can figure out a way to get them."

"Maybe. If I can get enough to sell maybe ten doses, that would be enough to buy a lot of supplies. I charge a lot. But then, how do we get the supplies here without anyone realizing it? Our fathers aren't going to ship me drug supplies, bet on it." He snorted.

"Let's worry about that later. What other problems?"

"Where am I going to make them? At my old school we didn't have security cameras."

"Fuck. That's a very good point." Lovino scanned the area, but he was freezing too, now. "Come on, let's get back and warm up. Maybe we can talk about it somehow in the room, but I'm fed up with this fucking cold weather."

"Yeah, all right. Race you!" Together they ran towards their dormitory – not quite laughing, but no longer sad at all.

…

Arthur crawled out of the closet and nodded. "Tight squeeze," he said quietly.

"Come and sit." Lovino was still shivering a little. He grabbed a blanket and they sat on the floor, wrapping up together in it. He let himself sit closer to Arthur than normally, but dammit, he was cold! He needed to warm up.

They talked in whispers for a while about this plan. Even assuming that Arthur could get the supplies, and mix up the mindbending cocktails in the closet, how would they sell them without getting caught?

"I could do it," Lovino considered. "You make them, I'll sell them. I have to do _something_ towards this goal, you know. If we could really keep it quiet – "

"But how? How would you find a buyer and still keep it quiet? You know half the wankers at this place would turn us in just for the malicious fun of it."

"How long does it take to make the shit?"

"Spotlight? I've got enough now for about five doses. Could be ready by tomorrow if I started right now."

"You're kidding! I thought it was some long drawn-out process."

"Well, normally it would be. At my old school I had a whole lab setup in the room and I'd make about two hundred doses at a time, so I did it in stages."

Lovino considered him carefully. "Sounds like you were very thorough about it."

"I was." Arthur buffed his nails on his shirt with a little smile. "Plus I didn't have a roommate, so it was easy to work whenever I felt like it."

"All right. Let's get some sleep. Maybe we can come up with some answers tomorrow."

"Okay. Good night."

_Maybe I could hack into the computers and see if anyone's got a history of drug use? Would they even have shit like that in the files? Dammit, it's times like this I wish I'd paid attention to the other bastards more. I'd know where to start. I don't really have hacker skills; I'd get caught. Well, we'll see what we think of tomorrow. But if we could get this to work – fuck. How perfect would that be? The only real problem is getting the staff to start taking it. But maybe we could dope their coffee or something…?_

_Cheh, there would still be a lot of variables, but…it's a step in the right direction. At least we'd be __doing something__ about it. And if we couldn't escape, I bet it would at least make the rest of our time here more interesting. Possibly very risky, but…interesting._

_On the other hand, so many people get away with such bullshit here that maybe nobody would even care. If Arthur's willing, I'm game. Let's see what happens._

…

"Hey, I had an idea but I don't know about your shit so I don't know if it would work."

"What idea?" They were talking quietly together in the quad. It was another artificially-cold day, but Lovino had been bursting with this idea all day and couldn't wait any longer to talk; he'd rushed through his work duty, tonight just basic maintenance, before hurrying back to Arthur. Other students drifted around, but nobody approached them.

"Smoking. It's frowned upon, but it's not illegal, not even if you're underage. Can your shit be smoked? If you could make it into cigarettes somehow, it would probably be easy to find buyers. I know there are a bunch of bastards who smoke, so, I could go light up somewhere and see if anyone comes to me to talk, and we could go from there."

Arthur thought about this. "Well, I could easily mix some in with tobacco, but it would lower the potency of the drug. It's a crystalline structure, so I couldn't roll a cigarette with just the drug in it. But I could mix the powder in with the tobacco, yeah. Or dip it in a liquid mixture after rolling them and let it dry, so they get more of the drug on their lips. Might make 'em happy, but not euphoric."

"Well, how is it normally? Something you sniff, or what?"

"Yeah, or I can make it into crystals that you put under the tongue."

"That'd work, though. Get them hooked on the cigarettes and then push them into buying crystals. You'd only have to do the cigarettes for a little while, until we got started."

"Let me think about it. Can we get tobacco somewhere?"

"Fuck yeah, shit like that's still available in the shops in town. We'd just need to make sure we get to town on a permitted day."

"Okay. Find out when the next day is, and I'll start thinking about how best to do this."

Lovino nodded. This plan was pretty interesting. He wanted to see what happened.

…

And hadn't it been fucking _easy!_ Lovino had taken a pack of Arthur's Spotlight-laced cigarettes with him outside, leaning against a building. He'd lit a plain one, taken just enough of a drag to get it started, and within two minutes Martín had come sniffing around. "Didn't know you smoked," he'd said pleasantly.

Lovino grunted and offered him a drag. Martín inhaled deeply and handed it back. "Where'd you get them?"

"Downtown."

"Che, that's nice stuff, _boludo._ Got any to spare?"

Hah, of course he did. "Here." Lovino took one special cigarette from a little box in his pocket and gave it to him.

"Ah, come on; give me the whole pack, Vargas."

What? "Forget it! Buy your own shit, bastard."

"Oh! Oh, well, if it's money you want…" Martín pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty.

Twenty Galactic dollars! That was more than the entire packet of tobacco had cost. Hah! "Why so much?" Lovino wondered. He handed over the whole pack, dumbfounded.

"Eh, fuck, I'm only a first-year, and I can't get to town. How stupid, right? I'm allowed to smoke, but not allowed to go buy cigs. Fuck. But yeah, I've got plenty of money. Keep bringing me these and I'll keep paying you," the Argentinean winked, stashing the pack in his pocket and leaving with the lit cigarette.

"I'm not your goddamned errand boy, bastard!" Lovino yelled after him, before realizing that might be a setback. Shit. But Martín just waved at him without turning. The Italian waited until he was out of sight and then scurried back to the room, where Arthur was anxiously waiting.

…

"Well?"

He recapped his encounter with Martín in a whisper. "Twenty fucking dollars just for a pack of cigarettes!" He took out the twenty and flapped it in his roommate's face. "He didn't even know how good they were yet!"

"Bloody hell," Arthur laughed, "maybe we should just deal in cigarettes." He took the twenty and examined it.

"Nh. Let's – let's see what happens with him. Make up another pack – "

" – I already did; here – "

" – and I'll keep it with me. See if he spreads the word or not."

They grinned at each other. Yeah. Manipulating people was always fun. Dammit, it felt good to pay back these bastards with a little misery.

…

At his next work duty, Oxenstierna and Lovino repaired some old machines that were not essential to the school's functioning, but which had been sitting around defunct for a while. "You're a g'd worker, Vargas," the man told him idly. Seated near the humming machinery, there was a measure of peace here; Lovino felt that even if there were security cameras, they probably wouldn't be able to hear much.

"Thank you, sir. You're a lot easier to work for than the other bastards, I guess," he said, before realizing that might be unwise.

But the man did not seem to take offense, so Lovino asked him a question that had been worrying him for a while. "Are you – are you acquainted with my father?" he stammered, before he could change his mind about asking.

Oxenstierna raised his eyebrows. "Wh't on earth gave you th't idea? No, I don't know y'r father at all."

Lovino blushed and shrugged. "Ev-everyone else around here, teachers and staff, are all kind of nasty to me," he pointed out, "but you aren't. I thought maybe my father had – had recruited you to watch out for me, or something." Even though such a level of care would be quite unheard of for the damn bastard. Lovino now felt like an idiot for voicing this concern, especially because Oxenstierna didn't answer.

Instead, the employee sat with his attention on the machinery. After a few minutes he spoke. "Ten years ago," he said very quietly, "I w's happy on Earth. I was so 'n love – Tino 'n' I were going t' work f'r a few years and get married – but we w're quite young." He blushed a little. Lovino didn't know where this was going, but he didn't want to interrupt. "And th'n Tino got unjustly convicted o' stealing and sent here. He was s' young and fragile, Vargas. Kind of like you. But he was determined t' survive and come back t' me.

"We sent each other sat-mails ev'ry day f'r the first four years he w's here, and most of th' final year. He hated it, 'n' kept telling me how bad 't was here, but he w's being strong. And I'd kept working th' whole time, and saving money, so we'd be able to find a new place t'gether when he came back. And then all of a sudden th' sat-mails stopped coming. I panicked."

Lovino nodded. He could imagine that all too easily.

"I sent sats to th' staff mail addresses, and got no response at all. So I took some of th' money out o' savings and hired a pod t' bring me here. It was one of th' old four-day pods, so I was all alone in th' thing for four days, frightened o' what might h've happened to Tino, or what I might find when I got here.

"Tino w's gone, and no one would tell me where. Braginsky patiently explained that th' fate of a convicted criminal was none o' my business; that kind o' explanation sounded like a cover-up for something. I was in agony. But wh't could I do? I finally accepted th't Tino had died somehow, and went back to Earth, 'n' my work.

"But th' whole thing haunted me, for s'me time, and I started t' think about other boys who might not deserve t' be here. Who might be in th' same kind of situation. And so I applied t' work here. So th't I could befriend these boys who weren't hardened criminals…like you. It's difficult," he sighed, "because so many of th'm look down on me f'r being a maintenance man; we aren't well-respected, despite th' fact that without me th' rest of y' would all be dead. Right?" He smiled mirthlessly at his companion, waving at the air converters behind them.

Lovino was deeply saddened by this story, but also now much more grateful for the man's compassion. He nodded. "I'm – I'm sorry for your loss," he offered. "D-d-did you ever f-find out what happened to him?"

Oxenstierna looked him right in the eye. "Yes." Then he focused on his work again.

Lovino was much too nervous to take that line of conversation any further, so he simply stammered, "Th-thank you for telling me about that."

"Don't spread it 'round," Oxenstierna warned him with a tiny smile. "We won't speak 'f it again."

"Don't worry, sir."

They spent the rest of the time working silently on the machinery, each lost in his own thoughts. Lovino turned all this over and over in his mind until it was time to go. "See you next week, sir," he said with a little smile, before leaving.

"Take care, Vargas."

…

When Lovino got back to the room he was on fire to talk about this with his roommate, who was unfortunately not there. So he sat to write in his diary and think.

_Is it noble, or stupid, of Oxenstierna to sacrifice his life for the sake of watching over unknown students? I guess if he had nothing else to do with his life after this Tino guy died, he might as well. It might bring him some peace. The weird thing is that the students – __weak and fragile, like me__ – might not ever even know he was watching. But he has always been kind to me. I wonder who else he's watching? Arthur?_

Then he spent some time thinking about a man wanting to marry another man. He could understand two male students getting together, like Martín and Manuel, because there were no women here except the fat hairy nurse, and if you found someone sympathetic at this loony bin you'd want to stay close. But Mr. Oxenstierna had been happy on Earth with his Tino. That was an interesting thought.

By the time Arthur did come back, Lovino had decided not to mention any of this. Mr. Oxenstierna had told him this in confidence, and while he might believe that Lovino would tell someone, he must surely hope it wouldn't get around. The Italian put the diary away and sat up to greet his friend.

…

"Bollocks!" Arthur yelled in the privacy of their room after class one day. "Just – just _bollocks._" He threw his bag down on the bed.

"What's the problem?" Lovino, lying in bed writing, was a little alarmed at this.

Arthur came over and sat on his bed; Lovino shut his diary. "I forgot to do my math homework. Because I've been – been so tired," he waffled, rolling his eyes towards the security camera. "There's just so much shite going on."

And there was. Arthur had been spending a lot of time trying to surreptitiously source insignificant quantities of supplies, hanging around the depot waiting for the delivery, frantically signing the receipt when they arrived on a supply pod and scurrying back to the room before anyone could ask questions. Then he'd hide in the closet and make some cigarettes, or some crystals. This didn't leave him a lot of time for homework, unless he stayed up late, but if he did that, he ended up exhausted the next day. Plus he had work duty three days a week. "You're in trouble?"

"Sort of. Just extra math homework, but – but fuck. I – _bloody hell_." He waved his hands in wordless agitation.

"I'm not too good at math," the brunet confessed, "or I'd offer to help you." He sat up. "Want to go for a walk?"

"Hell, yes, but I can't. I've got to turn in the first assignment tomorrow, plus all the backlog of stuff I didn't finish in time. I can't do anything but math right now," he said firmly. "Okay?"

Fuck, he looked really irritated. "Sure," Lovino replied, trying to stay calm. "Anything I can do to help?"

Arthur blew out a breath. "Nothing you really _can_ do. Help me stay focused, and just keep on – you know, just do the things you have to do."

Lovino nodded. Sell the drugs. Bank the money. "Okay."

The blond sighed one more time and went to his desk. "If I fall asleep over here, wake me up, yeah?"

"Yeah." Lovino turned back to his diary.

_Shit. Arthur's really run ragged. I wish I could help, but I can't make the fucking stuff, and I can't do his math for him. Don't know what else to do._

…

A few days later Lovino went out for a walk with a pack of the special cigarettes in his pocket; he also had some crystals, just in case. Arthur was still frenetically trying to catch up on his math work, so the brunet had decided to leave him in peace for a while. He caught Martín's eye; the bastard was holding Manuel's hand. Lovino nodded and Martín winked back at him, turning to face Manuel, who didn't change his stoic expression at all.

Well, Martín didn't need any shit. He'd been buying stuff as fast as Arthur could make it; Lovino had laughed to Arthur that the Argentinean must be perpetually high. He didn't look it now, but maybe he saved the shit for special occasions. Arthur had told him the high from one crystal lasted about two hours.

Lovino walked on, thinking. Their only other regular client was a big bastard named Juan; he was from Cuba and proud of it, so everybody just called him Cuba. He smoked their cigarettes as if they were the grandest things he'd ever had. Maybe for him, they were. But he wasn't out here at the moment.

A new kid had bought a few crystals from him last week. Vladimir something-or-other. Creepy kid with long pointy eyeteeth. Lovino had been more than happy to sell him the crystals; he wondered whether the kid was pleased with them. He hadn't been back for more. Maybe he'd been too frightened to try them yet. Lovino himself was still mighty curious, but he'd promised Arthur never to try them. He'd keep that promise. He didn't want to upset his roommate. Arthur was too important to – to his escape plans, to risk pissing him off.

They still hadn't come up with a way to get the staff hooked, but he figured that was just a matter of time.

At this end of the footpath a cheap Kevlar web stretched across it; that way led to the abandoned dwellings for miners that had been built in the old days. Those buildings were condemned, but no one had ever gotten around to knocking them down. The authorities had put up this flimsy fence as a visual reminder not to go there.

Of course nobody paid attention to that rule, not even Lovino. He slipped past the web, intending to wander a couple hundred feet and turn back. He was really only killing time until Arthur had a chance to finish the fucking math. Hm. Maybe they could set up Arthur's laboratory in one of the old buildings? There probably weren't any security cameras there. The question would then be how to get there when they needed to, without getting caught. Hm. Thoughts of secret underground passageways caught his imagination for a while as he wandered, making him smile.

The brunet rounded a curve of pathway and stopped short, too panicked to move. Behind a rock outcropping, Beilschmidt was lying face down on a rock, thrashing ineffectually, with Francis sitting on his back, his hands yanking Gilbert's head back. Fucking Antonio had his pants down and was trying to shove his erect cock into Gilbert's mouth. "_Chigi! _You _twisted motherfuckers!_"

At that, Antonio's grin widened and he reached for Lovino, but Gilbert bucked and threw Francis off his back. The blond's head hit a rock and he slumped to the ground, moaning; the albino then advanced on Antonio (who couldn't run because his pants were down around his ankles) and punched him in the face. The back of the Spaniard's head hit the rock behind him, and he too fell to the ground with a grunt.

"Come on," Beilschmidt wheezed, "get out of here." He grabbed Lovino by the arm and together they squeezed past the barrier and ran most of the way back to the school grounds.

"Wait, wait," Lovino yelled, finally wrenching his arm out of the albino's grip. "What the fuck?"

"Those damned bastards," Gilbert muttered, trying to catch his breath. He drew Lovino behind a big rock to hide. "The fuckwits are always trying to do that shit with me, but I always got away before. Damn, I'm glad you showed up." He bent forward and put his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "Thanks."

"I thought those bastards were your friends?" Lovino, who hadn't been fighting, was not quite as winded. This was kind of bizarre. And maybe – maybe he was even with the stupid albino now, for that time he'd dragged the fuckers away at the beginning of the year?

"Hah. Nobody has friends at this damn dump." Gilbert kicked a rock.

"Bastard, everybody in the place is your friend! They're always raving about you." Lovino was now extremely confused. "Every idiot here is always talking about how fabulous you are."

"Are you brain-dead? Of course I have to play along, if I ever want to get out of here alive. Friends. Fabulous." Gilbert spat on the ground. "Assholes." He started to walk away.

Lovino, who was still curious, followed, slouching along. "What the hell are you even doing here, then?"

"You want to know? You really want to know?" Gilbert whirled with a menacing grin. Lovino backed off a bit; those crimson eyes were even scarier up close! "I'm a technical wizard. I used to raid corporate accounts and drain their funds into a private little hidden account I'd set up. Sometimes I'd just fuck around with their databases, just to see if I could make the market crash, or whatever. Remember the market scare of '54? That was all me_,_ _Scheisskopf_. I was _twelve years old_. I had a ball, you understand? That was the greatest feeling in the world. The money wasn't even that important. It was the _power._ All those stuffy shitheads with their fucking corporate structure, and little orphaned Gilbert Beilschmidt brought them to their knees."

Lovino, dumbfounded, just nodded; it sounded like a much larger-scale version of what he and Arthur were trying to do.

"And then I got caught. They didn't want to throw my lily-white ass into some prison, because I made myself look vulnerable and young at the trials, so they sent me to this godforsaken place. I _should not_ be here." He spat again and ran his hand through his disheveled white hair. "This dump is for felons and sickos, not geniuses like me. All right? Understand now, stupid little Italian?" He flicked the stunned Lovino in the forehead. "Now leave me the fuck alone." Gilbert shoved him and ran off before Lovino could answer, and when he heard the sounds of footsteps behind him – shit, it was Antonio and the perverted bastard, wasn't it? – he too ran, straight back to the dorm room.

"What? What's wrong?" Arthur stood up and came over to him; Lovino knew he must look scared as hell, but he shook his head and flopped down onto his bed, trying to catch his breath. "Lovino, are you all right?" Arthur stood next to the bed and stared at him in worry.

The brunet nodded. "Yeah. Just – let me catch my breath – I'm okay." He drew some deep breaths and peeled off his shoes. Arthur, still looking concerned, got up and went back to his desk, watching him carefully.

When he'd rested, he beckoned Arthur over to sit on his bed; when the blond was in place he told him quietly about the perverts and their treatment of Beilschmidt. But he didn't mention what Gilbert had said about his personal life; he felt that was probably something the albino had blurted out in the heat of the moment and wouldn't really want to get around.

Arthur, on the other hand, was fed up with both Antonio and Francis and wanted to figure out a way to get them into some serious trouble.

"Ah, forget it," Lovino said dismissively. "Fuckers like those two just slide right out of trouble, somehow."

"I do have another drug," Arthur mused. "It's a lot harder to get the ingredients for it, but…"

"What? What kind of drug?"

"Makes you stupid." He laughed.

"Hard to see how they could be any more stupid." Lovino snorted at that. "But – what do you mean? Why would you even invent something like that?"

"Eh, I told you, I like watching people when they're messed up. See how their behavior changes from the norm, knowing I manipulated them into it. It was just an experiment, you know? Just for fun."

"Was it? Fun, I mean?"

"That one? Pfft. I never even named it. I just called it J-175. Sounded more hardcore that way. I slipped some to a couple rich wankers at a party once, just to watch. Bloody hell, that was funny," he reminisced. "They kept trying to pull birds and failing miserably!"

"Uh…_pull birds?_" Lovino wondered if this was some slang for jacking off. He'd only recently learned what "wankers" were.

"Sorry. Pick up girls."

"Oh!" He laughed at himself. "There's a lot of English slang I don't know."

"Don't really need to. We should make up Esperanto slang, just for the hell of it. _Vol tiri birdojn_?"

Both of them started laughing. "Dammit, I need to get up and do some homework," Lovino then said. "Move it." He pushed Arthur off the bed and sat up.

The blond moved to his own bed. "Thanks for giving me some time alone. I got a lot done."

"Are you caught up?"

"Mostly. By the end of the week I should be back on track, unless work duty runs late."

"Good. Let me know if I can help."

"Sure."

Lovino busied himself at his desk, his mind half on his homework, half on Arthur's punishing schedule, and half still on Beilschmidt's words, and when he realized that was too many halves, he ignored the Beilschmidt part and put his mind to his homework.

…

_"Vol tiri birdojn" is, as far as I can find out through online translators, the literal Esperanto for "Want to pull birds?" _


	7. Expanding One's Outlook

**Expanding One's Outlook.**

Lovino was extremely frustrated. Arthur had caught up with all the math homework, but at the expense of their "business"; several customers had been angrily pestering Lovino for merchandise that he'd not been able to deliver. Luckily the weekend was here, but now he felt like Arthur would be spending the whole weekend in the fucking closet just to catch up with the shit. "Dammit," he said weakly.

"Nh?" Arthur was napping after class, but they always stayed up late on the weekends to talk and plan.

"Keep sleeping. We can talk later." If only Lovino were a better student, he could help Arthur with his homework and studies.

While his roommate napped, he alternated writing in his diary and glancing across the room at him. Arthur had dark circles under his eyes, but he was now deeply asleep and seemed relaxed. Lovino smiled fondly at him. He was very glad they had finally become friends. He didn't feel so alone in the world anymore.

He knew his friend lived in England. Wondered whether they'd be able to see each other this summer. Ah, probably not. It sounded like Arthur's family didn't have the money for travel, and he, Lovino, would be afraid to mention it to his fucker of a father in case he said no just to spite him. Or maybe the bastard would – would transfer him to some other school, if he thought Lovino liked it too much here?

This was a sobering thought. Six months ago he would practically have chopped off his own arm if it meant he could leave Jones Academy, and Mars. But now? Now he had a friend. And a purpose (illegal and manipulative though it was). Mr. Oxenstierna continued to be kind to him, if a bit gruff, and he was doing well in his studies and staying healthy. M-maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, to stay here at Jones? Next year he'd be halfway through.

After all, there were probably worse places in the solar system, and it would be just his goddamn luck for his bastard father to find a worse school to send him to. He allowed himself some unpleasant thoughts about that before squaring his shoulders (metaphorically) and determining that he would not let the bastard know that he was – well – content here. Not happy, but at least content. What were the chances that he'd find another sympathetic roommate? He made up his mind not to even mention school this summer, just in case.

He smiled at the sleeping Arthur again. No, he wouldn't let his father transfer him somewhere else.

…

"We need to do something about this." They sat on the window seat again. Arthur had popped up from his nap refreshed, hopped into the closet and started a new batch of crystals, and then they'd spent a little time on homework before giving up and talking about the business. "You're killing yourself."

"What the hell can we do?" Arthur was disgruntled.

"Well, I…had some thoughts while you were asleep. But they might be risky."

"Tell."

"We're doing all right. As – as friends, I mean. Right?"

"Yeah? I hope so." Arthur looked a little nervous, at that.

"Stupid. We are." Lovino poked him with his foot, as he often did on this seat. "So, wh-what if we, uh, tried to make another friend? Somebody who could help out with homework or something?"

Arthur nibbled on his lower lip. "You mean tell them about the _things_?" he whispered.

"I think so. I can't think of any way to dragoon someone into helping out with your work without explaining why you need the help."

"Bloody hell." Arthur turned his gaze to the dark landscape. "How could we tell who – "

"I don't know, dammit." Lovino punched the seat. "I just don't know. I mean, it would have to be someone smart, and someone who – who doesn't buy into all this convict shit. I don't want to work with some twisted fucker."

"And not someone who – er – you know, _likes_ _things_. That could be risky."

"Huh. I didn't even think of that."

They sat staring out the window, Arthur scowling and Lovino drumming his fingers on the seat.

"It's a good idea, I'll grant you. I just don't know if it would work."

"Why is this place so full of fucking bastards," Lovino muttered. "I wish I had better hacking skills. I could get into the administration database and see who – " He interrupted himself with a gasp. "Beilschmidt."

"What?"

"Do you know Beilschmidt?"

"Everybody knows the git. You were just talking about him last week. So what?"

Lovino took a deep breath. "Hang on. Let me think this through." He considered it. Beilschmidt definitely hated the place. He was smart, or at least that's what everyone said. He wasn't a customer. So all that checked out.

But on the other hand…could they actually _befriend_ the bastard? Would – would Gilbert even want to?

He explained all this to Arthur. "I – I'm not sure he'd agree. He was pretty vitriolic about other students in general." Lovino scowled. "He called me a _stupid little Italian._"

"Don't worry about that; from what you said that day, he was pretty pissed off and upset about the other two wankers. He might have said a lot of nasty stuff just because of that."

"Do you think it's worth approaching him?"

Arthur considered. "Eh. Don't say anything yet. Let's give it a week, a week where we really pay attention to him, maybe try a little chitchat about nothing in particular. Sort of a background check, yeah? I barely know the wanker. And then, if we don't find out anything scary or stupid, then maybe."

"That's a good idea. All right. Let's do that." Lovino rubbed his foot on Arthur's again and his roommate grinned at him.

"Want to go to town tomorrow?"

"Sure. But I'm tired. I didn't have a three-hour nap like you did. I'm going to go to bed."

"All right." Arthur drew his foot back to allow Lovino to get off the window seat. "I'll probably read or _something_ for a while. I'll try to keep the noise down."

"Yeah. Thanks."

…

As part of their mission to observe Gilbert, Lovino took his work to the quad one afternoon. He didn't have much to do, and periodically swept his gaze over the students in the area, but the albino did not appear. Well, not a big deal. They weren't frantic about it; he could watch him some other time.

"Hello, little one."

Dammit! How had Antonio sneaked up on him? Lovino had gotten so calm about hanging around with Arthur, had felt a measure of protection just from being near him, that he'd totally forgotten about these intrusive bastards. He got up from the table, trying not to show any fear, or any emotion at all, but, fuck, Arthur wasn't here, and all he could think about was that perverted scene with Beilschmidt last week. "Go away," he said, shoving his things into his book bag randomly.

Antonio put a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Lovi, that's not very nice. I've missed you so."

Lovino smacked his hand away. "Don't call me 'Lovi,' bastard. Don't talk to me at all." He finally got everything into the bag and tried to walk away.

"You're always with your roommate, now. It makes me sad. Makes me remember our good times together." Antonio's voice was low and deep – dammit, had he been taking fucking _seduction lessons_ from the French bastard, or something? Lovino shifted his stance and tried not to look Antonio in the eye. "My roommate this year is not so sweet, not like you were, little one," he crooned, stroking Lovino's cheek.

The Italian couldn't think straight. He – he didn't want Antonio touching him, dammit! "Stop it," he faltered, and sidestepped.

Antonio kept pace with him and tried another tack. "Lovi, I'm so stressed." He put his hand on Lovino's, this time, and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. "Please come and play with me? Help me feel a little better." He stepped a little closer. "I know a quiet little place…" He smiled appealingly at the Italian.

Lovino wasn't softening towards him, dammit! They had _nothing_ together. All Lovino had was old, disgusting memories of being used. His body, however, thought otherwise, and he finally met Antonio's eye. "Uh, bastard, you – "

"Ohonhonhon!" The voice of Francis broke into their little bubble and Lovino jerked back from Antonio.

Fuck! Had he really been – ? Well, whatever he'd been about to do, he needed to get out of here, and fast. "Bastards," he snarled, swinging his book bag at Francis' head and running towards the safety of the dormitory.

"Lovi, little one, come back," Antonio called out, but he could hear the pair of them laughing together behind him. Shit.

He made it to their room. Arthur was at work duty tonight, so Lovino dropped his bag on the floor and lay face-down on the bed to catch his breath. Damn that Antonio. More than ever he wished he'd never given in to the bastard last year; it seemed that shared history was just more sexual ammunition for the Spaniard, and Lovino now felt weak and needy, remembering it.

He was furiously aroused, too, he was forced to admit. For about three minutes he tried to talk himself out of masturbating, but he knew Arthur wouldn't be back for another hour or so. Finally he just gave in and handled things efficiently, trying to fantasize about Arthur, the housemaid, anyone…just to keep goddamn Antonio out of his brain.

When it was over he was more relieved than satisfied; he hoped that would take away the shame of almost giving in to the fucking Spaniard.

Arthur came in later. Lovino was working calmly at his desk, but when he saw his roommate's bright smile he felt a knot in his stomach and didn't quite understand why. "How was work?" he asked, to take his mind off it.

"Same. Dirty, busy." Arthur laughed and came to his desk. "How about you? Anything exciting going on?"

Fuck. "Not really. I looked for Gilbert outside but he wasn't there."

"Well, we'll figure something out."

Dammit, Arthur looked so happy to be here with him. Lovino had managed to get his urges out of the way, so why was he still so uncomfortable? To combat this, he held out his stylus to Arthur, though they were mostly past that stage now. Arthur took it and handed over his own. "Are you all right?"

Lovino rubbed his fingers on the stylus. "I will be. Thank you."

"Whatever makes you happy." Arthur smiled and began to work on his homework.

Fucking Antonio was a bastard, and that's all there was to it. Lovino would put the whole incident out of his head. He cleared his throat and got back to his work, smiling at Arthur's stylus the entire time he did so.

…

By the end of that week they'd concluded that perhaps approaching Beilschmidt could be beneficial. Despite the entire school's adulation of him, the albino was mostly alone. He caught Lovino's eye once or twice during that week, and always narrowed his eyes at the Italian. As if he were trying to intimidate Lovino into forgetting what he'd said. He mentioned this to Arthur the following weekend.

"Eh, I'd want you to forget, too. Remember, to him, you're an unknown quantity. He's probably worried about whom you might tell, or something."

"I wouldn't tell!"

"You told _me_," Arthur pointed out, laughing.

"That's different, idiot." Lovino poked him angrily. "You know what I mean. I'm no blabbermouth."

"I know. But he doesn't know that."

"We can try chatting with him tomorrow, I guess? Just a 'hi, how are you' kind of thing?" Lovino shrugged. "I really don't know how else to go about it."

"Yeah. Let's go out after breakfast and hang out on the rocks."

"Deal. Now let me finish this stupid history homework."

"Yes, boss," Arthur laughed.

"Shut up!" But Lovino laughed, too.

…

"This is awfully fucking sudden," Beilschmidt said, but he didn't sound hostile. Yet.

The three of them sat shielded from view of others, behind a big bunch of rocks in the boulder fields. Arthur had convinced Gilbert to come talk.

"We – well, what you said to me that day," Lovino started out. "I – "

"Oh, you two are feeling sorry for the poor little friendless albino? How fucking _touching_," Gilbert spat, making as if to leave.

"That's not it at all," Arthur hastily put in. "But perhaps we chose the wrong man."

Lovino shrugged and nodded. If Beilschmidt was going to be a dick about this –

But then, he realized, if Gilbert had approached _him_ out of the blue, wanting to hang out, he'd be nervous too. So he just waited to see what would happen next.

"Obviously you need something from me," Gilbert then said, settling back down. "Which is perfectly understandable. The question is, what's in it for me?"

"Hah. Just like you to be so mercenary," Lovino muttered, but he really didn't know if that was Gilbert's nature or not.

Gilbert countered with "Every man for himself around here. What's the deal?"

Arthur quietly explained how he needed more help with his homework.

"You want a fucking _tutor?_ _Scheisse, _don't bother me with that. Go find one of those losers who – "

But Lovino was getting angry. Arthur was trying so hard to be calm and reasonable and all Beilschmidt could do was yell at him. He didn't like it when people yelled at Arthur. "Shut up, bastard, and listen," he said, giving Arthur an inquisitive look.

The blond shrugged, so Lovino cleared his throat. "Lot of fuckers smoking around here these days," he said, in a more conversational tone.

"I noticed that!" Gilbert grinned at them, but then sobered. "Wait. What the hell does that have to do with anything?" But before either of the others could answer, he grinned again. "You're the suppliers, aren't you?"

Arthur put his finger to his lips. "Yes."

"Kesesese! I notice a lot of these smoking bastards acting a bit unusual lately. You put funny shit in the cigs, don't you? Cool!"

Lovino was astounded. Gilbert now seemed almost eager to befriend them. But then, their "work" was antiestablishment, just as the albino professed to be. Maybe he saw that connection already and wanted in?

"Yes," Arthur whispered again. "I make it, Lovino sells it. But it takes me a while to do it, and I'm exhausted, because I don't have time for that, and work duty, and class, and homework."

Gilbert nodded thoughtfully. "Where do you do this? If you made stuff in your room, the security cameras would catch it, and the fuckwits would punish you."

Arthur explained about the closet.

"Nah, that's bullshit. Every room has a dead zone where the camera can't focus right, but because of the different layouts I wouldn't be able to tell you where it is without seeing the room. Take me up to your room and let me look at it. If I can figure it out at least you wouldn't have to hide in the fucking closet."

"Just like that?" Lovino wondered.

And Gilbert understood what he meant. "Listen, what I told you before – I assume you told Kirkland? It's true. Nobody has friends at this place. But I could use the challenge, and – and, well, fuck, maybe if we become real friends as a result, that wouldn't be such a bad thing." He shrugged, with a little smile. "But I still want to know what's in it for me."

"We can pay you," Arthur offered. "Got a box full of cash under Lovino's bed. We have a huge markup."

"Why are you keeping cash under the bed?"

"Bastard," Lovino hissed, "how the hell are we supposed to bank it? You don't think all the banks in the town are going to get suspicious when a couple of juvies start depositing thousands of dollars in cash?"

"Kesesese! That's not a problem, though. I can easily get the money into bank accounts, untraceable." Gilbert rubbed his hands together in glee.

"Wait, gits, wait. Gilbert, if you can do that, maybe you could help us with some other shite?"

"Like what?" But he was still beaming.

Arthur detailed their problems with sourcing supplies and getting them to the room with no questions asked.

"Pfft. You poor little idiots. Good thing you came to the Awesome Me. Yes, I can help with that. I can get things shipped inside other parcels, or have them shipped to me, or whatever. Shit like that is easy; I don't have a roommate, so, that's not a problem." He thought a minute. "Though it would be even easier if I could upgrade my tech. I'm an orphan, you know, so I can't have 'my parents' send me care packages. Even fake care packages from fake parents."

"If you can help us with all this, bastard, the money's yours, but we need enough to buy supplies for the shit," Lovino pointed out. "And we do want to bank a little, for when we break out of here." Whoops. They hadn't been planning to tell Beilschmidt about the escape plan yet, but he'd been so surprised and open at the albino's eager manner that he'd just blurted it out.

"Escape! Awesome! Come on, take me up to look at your room's layout and we can talk about that later. How much money have you got in the box under the bed?" They rose to leave.

"Twenty grand?" Lovino hazarded, shrugging.

"_What?_" Gilbert's crimson eyes boggled. "Twen—"

Arthur slapped his hand over Gilbert's mouth before he could yell that dollar amount. "Yes," he hissed. "We charge _a lot,_ and we've been doing it for a while now_._ So shut the fuck up and come upstairs. Right?"

Gilbert nodded and Arthur let go. Together they went up to scope out the dorm room.

…

Within a week things were humming along like a well-maintained air converter. Gilbert had found their room's dead zone – Arthur's desk, and behind it – although after looking around he'd realized the closet was still probably the safest place for the real work. They'd given him some instructions and most of the cash, and in that week they had not only received all the supplies they'd need for a month, but Gilbert had banked the money, upgraded some of his computer shit, and was researching places they could all escape to. He really was a genius.

The three of them sat at a table outside, doing homework and idly chatting. Lovino was still astonished at how easily this had all fallen into place, and he was also really happy that the bastards Antonio and Francis were leaving them alone. _Really _happy. He hoped Gilbert had noticed that too. From where they sat, he could see the two fuckers making out on top of a rock, Francis' hand down Antonio's pants. Idiots. Why would they want to do that out in public? Probably checking to see if they could entice anybody else. He turned his back to them, not needing any distractions.

"Ever hear of Persephone?" the albino now asked in a low tone, interrupting his musings.

"Never-Never Land, you mean," Arthur snorted, without looking up from his tablet.

"What the hell are you bastards talking about?"

"Persephone! It's this space station that was abandoned, and about ten years ago some renegade guys took it over. Now it roves around in space to escape the Government, and refugees can go there to get a fresh start. Like a safe house. The men that run the place can help you wipe out your background so you're untraceable, and help you find a new place to go."

"A bloody fantasy, I'm telling you." Arthur set down his stylus. "Nobody's ever actually seen the place."

"Well, duh, Artie, if they did, they wouldn't come back here and talk about it! Or go back to Earth. Anybody who's going to look for it has to be pretty desperate, and then they're going to move on."

"Yeah, but if it roams around," Lovino pointed out, "how the fuck would we find it? We need to find a place with fixed coordinates." Fantasy world, hah. Sometimes Gilbert sounded like a real idiot.

Though he wouldn't say that to the albino's face, of course.

"I know, I awesomely know. But listen, forget about that for now. I have something good for you!" He pulled a memory card out of his pocket and waggled it back and forth, close to his chest.

"What the hell is it?" Lovino reached out and took it.

"This, my friends, is Program B." Gilbert beamed at them. "Or at least it will be, by tomorrow."

"Yeah? What the hell's Program B, wanker? For that matter, what's Program A?"

"Program A is for me." He beckoned them closer and whispered. "Put this in the wall slot. It will interrupt the security camera for an hour, so you won't have to sit in the closet when you make your shit. You can work right out in the room without fear of being seen!"

"Why isn't it ready yet?" Lovino turned it over and over in his hands.

Gilbert took it back. "Well, I have to record you two sleeping tonight."

"What?"

"Listen! You can't just interrupt the security signal with dead air, over and over. They'll get suspicious and come looking. I have to record you two in your beds for an hour, so there's something to broadcast when the signal is interrupted. Understood?" He scowled at them, as if he couldn't believe they could be so dumb. "Then you can use it whenever you want, though I still wouldn't recommend more than once a week. Some_ Arschloch_ in the security center is bound to notice you rolling in bed the same way, or whatever, and start to investigate."

"It would be nice to work in the room instead of the bloody closet," Arthur agreed. "What do we have to do?"

"Put it in the wall slot as close to nine o'clock tonight as you can. I'll divert the camera output to the card. I suggest you get ready for bed before nine tonight, so you can stick the card in the wall slot and hop right into bed. Then just lay there and pretend to sleep until about ten-fifteen. You'll hear a series of quiet beeps when the recording is about to end, and after the beeps stop, just give it about five minutes before you get up and start moving around. Bring me the card tomorrow and I can get it set up before curfew tomorrow night." He waggled his eyebrows at them. "Just restrain the urge to blow me kisses, since you know I'll be watching."

Lovino snorted. "Idiot."

Gilbert did a little dance in his seat. "Genius, no?"

"Genius, yes," Arthur laughed, punching him in the shoulder and taking the card.

…

"You know," Arthur mentioned quietly a few days later, while they were working together at their desks, "I have to wonder about something that never occurred to me before. Gilbert seems pretty easygoing. And that makes me wonder how many blokes at this place are in a similar kind of situation. Like us. Not people with really criminal minds, but too – too scared to reach out. Or whatever."

"I've thought about that too," Lovino confessed. Especially after Oxenstierna's confession about his Tino. "How many bastards like us – hell, even girls like us – there must be, all over the place, not just here. All over the solar system. Maybe even people a lot worse off than we are." He sighed and set down his stylus. "People without a voice. Somebody ought to do something about it."

"Yeah, but who? What? I mean, maybe we could befriend some of the gits here, but that's not really going to do much." Arthur's fine mouth twisted in a grimace, and Lovino reached across the desk to poke him with the stylus. "Ah, you know what I mean. What could we do? Even if we did make a lot of friends – which is completely unlikely, given what we know of some of these wankers – what good will it do us when we all leave?"

"Yeah, I know, dammit." Lovino tapped his teeth with the stylus. "Like we even have a clue about what we'll be doing when we leave."

"Don't remind me. If I ever expect to graduate I've got to master this shite."

"Well, then, quit blabbing and work, idiot."

"Git." Arthur kicked him under the desk, grinning, and Lovino laughed.

…

He had nothing to do one night – no homework, no work duty – so he wandered down to the kitchens, where Arthur was working alone. "Hey," the blond said with a surprised smile. "What are you doing down here? Trouble?"

"No. Just bored, thought I'd come say hi. Got a packet of cookies today; we can share them when you get back." He looked distastefully around the kitchen, which Arthur was in the process of mopping. "How can you stand looking at this shit all the time? It turns my stomach just being here."

"Eh, you know me. I'll eat anything. Neither my dad nor I is a good cook, so we eat a lot of sloppy shite. Marmite sandwiches, a lot of the time," he laughed.

"You've got a strong stomach, that's all I can say."

"Probably. Hey, I don't know if you should hang around. The supervisor might get pissed off." Arthur jerked his head towards the supervisor's office.

"Huh. Yeah, you're probably right. Well, hurry up and get done. I'll be back in the room."

"Okay."

Lovino turned to leave and Arthur smacked him in the ass with the wet mop. "Dammit!"

But Arthur was laughing, and he looked so carefree that Lovino laughed too, rubbing his wet pants. "Go change," Arthur said. "I should be done in half an hour."

"Bastard," Lovino grinned. "I'll get you for that."

"Whatever you say, boss."

"Shut up, dammit!" He left the kitchens still laughing, though the wet pants were uncomfortable.

All the way back to the room he tried to think of a way to pay Arthur back for that, but couldn't come up with anything. Well, whatever. He didn't need to get revenge right away. He changed into his lounging pants and decided to write in his diary.

_I'm so glad that Arthur can relax and smile now. I hadn't really thought about it, back before we were talking to each other, but it must have been hard for him. He seems so easygoing – at least around me – and to keep that under wraps must have been very difficult. I wonder how much of that was part of his decision to – you know? _He didn't want to jinx Arthur by writing about suicide in the diary. _I'm –_ and here he stopped for a while, trying to find the right word – _intensely__ relieved to see him happy._

He doodled a little and then wrote _But he will never understand the importance of well-cooked food!_ This made him laugh again. His eye caught the clock and he realized Arthur would be back soon, so he stowed the diary in its box before getting out the cookies to share.

…

Six weeks later they were all much wealthier, Arthur was back on track with his studies, and Gilbert professed himself happy to be their friend. Today had been the last day of classes before students broke to go home tomorrow. "I have no place to go, you know," the albino said, "so I'll be staying here."

"That sucks."

"Eh, I'll get a job, maybe something in town. It wasn't too bad last summer, shouldn't be too bad this one."

"Keep the home fires burning, wanker," Arthur smiled. "We'll see you soon."

"Yeah, I know. Hey, send me some sat-mails or something. Keep me from getting too bored."

"Sure," Lovino said. For some reason he'd been too shy to ask Arthur to sat-mail him, but now that the topic was out in the open –

But Arthur turned red and looked down at the ground. "I can't," the blond said quietly. "I'm not allowed the use of electronics at home."

"Wh-why not?" Lovino asked, trying to make it sound nonchalant. Dammit!

"Eh, my dad thinks it's a waste of brain cells. He makes me go out and get a job. Which is fine. You two will be all right?"

Dammit. One drawback to being friends with Beilschmidt was that he couldn't be as – as physically supportive to Arthur as he used to be. He wanted to pat his shoulder, but couldn't do that here! "I'll be all right," he sighed instead. "Bastard leaves me to myself, most of the time." He just hoped the fucker _would_ leave him alone. His stomach was in knots already, just thinking about that.

"That's good," Arthur replied, with an understanding smile.

"Come on, I'm hungry," Gilbert decided. "Let's go eat."

Together the three of them walked towards the refectory. Lovino let Gilbert get a little bit ahead of them, and then he very quickly reached out and squeezed Arthur's hand.

Arthur's answering smile was so sweet that Lovino couldn't help but smile back. Dammit, he was going to miss the blond bastard, this summer.

…

_Note: Please be patient! Mathias will appear._

_Also, I'm hoping the Marmite company will still be in business 500 years from now. Heh._


	8. A Blip in the Space-Time Continuum

**A Blip in the Space-Time Continuum.**

Gilbert too avoided keeping an electronic record of his thoughts. He loved his handwriting, which was loopy and confident, and so he kept his own little diary, in which he wrote very cryptic comments that he could decode later, when he wanted to remember something. Half the time he never bothered to look back at it, though. It wasn't like his awesome brain ever actually forgot anything. Kesesese.

He came home from his job on Friday – just slinging hash at one of the dumpy downtown restaurants, which really wasn't all that busy in the summer – and decided to do a little research. Booting up his tablet, he whistled a happy little tune.

His little tune got happier when he saw a sat-mail from Lovino. Gilbert had realized – though perhaps Arthur and Lovino hadn't – that they were very dependent on him now. He knew a lot of their secrets, at least as pertained to the drug business, and they didn't know much at all about him. He preferred to keep it that way. But he certainly didn't mind trying to be friends with them. It was an interesting feeling.

Plus he was making a lot of money for very little work! "Kesesese!" He opened the file and lay back on the bed to read it.

Huh, nothing much. Seemed like the brunet just wanted to touch base; he asked how Gilbert was, whether anything exciting was happening. Mentioned that he'd gotten a job doing data entry, and asked Gilbert _not_ to respond to this sat-mail. Apparently his father had access to his communications. Well, shit. But Lovino did say he'd try to write when he could. That was cool. It really was boring around here.

Gilbert then snickered. Imagine what _he_ could do with a job in data entry! Heh.

He didn't have to work tomorrow, so he planned to stay up late. Sometimes in the summer the skeletal school staff had stupid little socialization things for the students who stayed. Gilbert always looked on these things with derision. How could anyone pretend this was just some normal high school? It was full of bozos and criminals. Hanging out with them – well –

Well, all right, maybe he'd been wrong before. He'd made friends – of a sort – with Lovino and Arthur, right? Maybe there were other kids like them here, but nobody knew it. He wondered how anyone ever found out. In his two years here nobody had really tried to talk to _him_, for example, until that day with his new friends. All they ever wanted was quick answers to homework and someone to be on their orfball team. Kesesese. He was a fucking fearsome orfball player, it was true.

And then there were Francis and Antonio, whose motives were different, but just as bad.

But on the whole, he was kind of stuck. There was nothing in the student files about their approachability, or whatever it was called. The only way to find out was to talk to people. For real.

He smacked himself in the head. _"Scheisse!"_ Gilbert couldn't believe he was actually considering going to a stupid school get-together!

After about half an hour of dithering, he got his tablet so he could investigate just who was still here this summer. He didn't see anyone he recognized when he was at his job. At meals he'd see staff members, and always took particular care to avoid that bastard Braginsky, but other than cold Manuel he hadn't seen any other students at all.

Of course, Gilbert did keep weird hours. He was the first one in the refectory for breakfast and, he guessed, the last one there for dinner. Sometimes he ate at the greasy spoon where he worked, and on those days he didn't need to eat at school. So he didn't even know what to expect.

Huh. Looked like there wouldn't be too much socializing this year. Manuel, and that guy Kohler that everyone was afraid of, Zwingli – and hell, he wasn't going to hang out with _that_ murderous freak – and a couple others he knew and didn't like. Nah, he wouldn't bother. Not worth it. He'd stay in his room – he _loved_ this room, especially now that he had so many new toys, thanks to Arthur – and think of something interesting to do.

Maybe he'd try writing an epic poem. Art of all forms was something that Gilbert really wanted to be good at, for some reason. He sucked at music, and his drawing was always half-assed, but he thought writing poetry might be cool. Epic poetry, of course, something about battles and honor, like Beowulf. Not that sappy love business.

Sure! That's what he'd do now. "Kesesese!" Maybe he'd have a completed poem to show his friends when they got back in September.

He pulled the stylus out and began thinking of words to rhyme with "awesome."

…

_I can't believe I got 2 reviews about _Marmite!

_And you know this wouldn't be a Skirmish Brothers story if I didn't slip in that reference to Beowulf. There is a new Ask account on dA, "Asktheskirmishbros," if you feel like asking something. Thanks to Ellenthefox for starting it._

_Now…can anyone think of a rhyme for "awesome"?_


	9. Next Steps Forward

_Thank you for your rhyme contributions. Here is a little poem that incorporates them all. This is __not__ Gilbert's epic poem! I didn't want to put this at the end of the chapter because it would definitely kill the mood._

Four friends sat on a boulder one day,  
Trying to think of something to say.  
"Kesesesese! Now this would be awesome –  
Let's go upstairs and have a foursome."

"Bastard, that isn't awesome at all.  
You might as well ask me to play orfball!  
You want to know what would really be awesome?  
If you curled up like a dead opossum."

"Hah. That's the dumbest idea, I think.  
A 'possum is never as cool as a mink!  
You know a pet mink would be very awesome.  
Go ask the gamekeeper, Mr. Dawsom."

_("It's Dawson!")_

"All these ideas are bloody insane.  
You've all got coffee on the brain!  
The only thing here that can really be awesome  
Is drinking some tea, undeniably wholesome."

_Ahem. Well, sorry. Maybe Gilbert's a better poet than I am._

…

**Next Steps Forward.**

Lovino was just a little bit nervous; he couldn't focus on his diary, so he sat in the window seat and stared out at the distant town. Today was the first day of the new semester, and Arthur wasn't here yet. They had gotten reassigned as roommates, so he wasn't worried about that. And it was their same dorm room, so he wasn't worried about Arthur getting lost or something.

No. After a whole summer of not being able to talk to each other, he was really only nervous that something might have happened to set back their friendship. He fought not to bite his fingernails while he waited.

Then he remembered how late Arthur had arrived last year, and relaxed a little. He got up to write in his diary.

_I hope everything goes well right from the start. I brought the chemical shit he asked for – and I saw Gilbert earlier; he's been stockpiling all summer. If we can get everything into place I'm guessing we stand to make a mint. Maybe we can just bribe the bastards to let us go. Though I don't think Mr. Oxenstierna would take a bribe, and he's the one we'd need to get past at the pods._

_I'm a little worried_, he wrote, and then nibbled on the pen. He hadn't burned last year's diaries, after all. He'd taken them home in the locked box, sat to read, and found himself getting lost in memories. Memories of Arthur, and then Gilbert, and how things had gotten so much better for him. For all of them. In the end, he'd reread the diary – even the stressful parts – and put it back into the box. He – he wasn't ready to burn it, just yet.

This year he had a box big enough to hold the old ones and new ones. It had the retina scan lock and a new voice lock. Someone trying to open it would not only need to use Lovino's voiceprint, but also speak the correct access phrase. Not stupid, he'd avoided using "Lovino Vargas" as his access phrase. He blushed a little and hoped no one would ever guess what words he'd chosen to use.

…_worried that maybe Arthur will have changed. That he will have…cooled down?...somewhat, and not be as needy. And that would be good, for his personal development, if he – _ The door slid open. Lovino fumbled his pen and recovered it before sitting up and closing the diary with a slap.

"Hi!" Arthur dumped his bag on his bed. The brunet stood up. They stood awkwardly smiling at each other for a few seconds; Lovino wasn't quite sure what to do next.

And then, beaming even more brightly, his roommate came over and hugged him. Lovino finally relaxed and held him tightly, and they stayed in the embrace for several long seconds, during which the Italian took deep breaths. Shit, he should have known there was nothing to worry about. He could rely on his friend's support.

When they let go Arthur was still smiling at him. "You look good. How was your summer?" he asked, moving to unpack his bag.

Lovino sat on his bed. "Well, I – uh, I tried something new this year."

"What was that?"

"I…got a job."

Arthur stopped his unpacking and turned to look at him. "You did? Good for you. What kind of job?"

"Just data entry shit, shit I could do at home. But I felt like garbage, because I knew you and Gilbert would both be working. And you know what? It had a good result. I mean, besides the money. My fucking father was impressed with me!" He still couldn't believe how impressed the bastard had been.

"Well, that's good. At least maybe he'll start treating you better." Arthur finished unpacking and shoved his duffel bag under the bed, turning to sit on his own bed.

Uh. Lovino hadn't noticed this before, but Arthur looked good. Really good. Stronger, and kind of m-muscular, compared to last year. Oh, he definitely had to figure out a way to coax Arthur into some playtime…he was going to run his hands all over the contours of that body…"Wh-what happened to you this summer?"

"Nothing much. I got a job in landscaping. It was pretty nice. Plants don't talk back, you know? And I got a lot of sun and fresh air, and built up my muscles a little from carrying pots of plants all over the place. Lot of rich gits in my neck of the woods who want that kind of work done." He posed like a bodybuilder and then started laughing at himself, not noticing Lovino's intent stare.

"Uh. W-well, I was in the middle of writing in my diary. Let me finish that up."

"Sure, take your time. I don't mind." Arthur flopped back on the mattress and laced his fingers together behind his head, staring at the ceiling and whistling a little. "I didn't plan to do much today anyway. Wake me up for First Muster if I fall asleep."

_Damn. I _– but he didn't want to write about sex in the diary. _Arthur looks __very good__ after his summer of lugging plant pots around,_ he wrote, knowing that would be enough of a trigger, in the future, to remember what he'd meant. _He also seems a lot more at ease. Because he's familiar with the place? Because of our work? Whatever it is, it's good to see it._

…

"Kesesese! Hey!" Gilbert bounced out of a chair, where he'd been sitting next to some new kid, and punched each of them on the shoulder. "Good summer?"

"Productive summer," Arthur agreed, sitting next to him. Lovino just nodded.

"Good. Man, I have a ton of awesome ideas for shit this year. I have some stuff for you. I wrote an epic poem! A story of knights of old, doing battle against their oppressors."

Lovino made desperate shushing motions – it'd be just like the fucking staff here to pick up on that and punish them for insubordination – but Arthur just elbowed him and said, "Relax. It's just a poem." To Gilbert he said, "Will you show it to me? I'd like to read it."

The albino nodded forcefully. "Kesesese! Oh, yes, I will, my friend. It's – "

"Awesome?" Arthur asked, laughing.

Gilbert nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "Am I that predictable?"

"Yeah, but who cares? Tell me what work duty you're going to try for this year." He always went for the non-technical shit, to throw off suspicion; Arthur, Lovino knew, was just going to default to the kitchens again. It really didn't seem to bother him, and it might spare some first-year the harrowing stomach sickness that Lovino had suffered.

He tuned out the two bastards as he scanned the auditorium. Yep. Same old bastards, same old teachers. He couldn't see the fucking principal, but he'd show up soon, no doubt. The Killer was sitting all alone with that menacing grin on his face. He hoped that freak wouldn't be in any of his classes this year. It was bad enough just to look at him. Even his spiky hair looked vicious. He checked out some of the other students to get his mind off that.

Things were looking much better already. Just in the last few minutes Lovino had begun to be less frightened of all the dangerous fucking bastards at this bleak place.

Who was he kidding? _He_ was a dangerous fucking bastard, now, and so were his two friends. He smirked and kicked back in his chair, scanning the room again.

…

Later, he came back from a shower, towel around his waist. Arthur was working at his desk. The brunet opened his dresser, rummaging around for some underwear, and when he looked into the mirror he saw Arthur appraising his body. He took a deep breath and turned around slowly, keeping the towel in place.

"You look pretty good," his roommate said matter-of-factly. "I never really noticed before. But you have a nice lean body. It suits you, with your dark coloring. Lean and mean." He smiled.

Lovino was floored at this nonchalance. "Uh, thanks," he managed. He pulled the towel tighter, trying to conceal his growing erection. "I – uh – I think you look pretty fucking good, after your landscaping work. You – you're a lot more muscular than I'll ever be."

Arthur was still absently studying his body. Lovino fought the urge to squirm, or drop the towel. "Thanks? I guess. I don't think about that kind of stuff much." He went back to his work after flexing his fingers a few times.

Dammit. The Italian slipped into his lounging pants and sat on the edge of his bed. "I, uh…" Arthur looked up politely. "I think about it a lot," Lovino confessed.

"About what? Being more muscular?" A frown appeared between those expressive eyebrows.

"Nh. Well, no." He decided just to plunge forward with the discussion. "About, uh, sex, and people's bodies, and things."

Arthur set his stylus down; his expression changed to surprise. "Really?" He looked like he wanted to speak further, but didn't.

"Yeah. I…have to take care of things myself, you know, but, almost every day, I…sometimes twice a day." He was beginning to get fidgety.

"I had no idea."

"Well, of course not! It's not like I lay here in bed, moaning and thrashing around while I do it!" Lovino grinned at him. "I take care of it in the shower."

"You really enjoy it that much?"

"Yeah, I do." He was slightly encouraged by Arthur's calm discussion. He'd worried that any discussion about sex would make the blond freak out, because of the principal, but it wasn't – not yet. He didn't know how to push further, though, without bringing up Arthur's bad memories. Aha, he had an idea. "I – we had this pretty little housemaid a couple years ago, and one day, we…uh…dammit, it was so hot…" Absently he put his hand on his cock and rubbed it through his pants. "You never – uh – you don't think about it much?"

"Eh?" Arthur dropped his voice. "Once in a while, in the showers, but it's kind of – of clinical, or whatever. I'm certainly not as obsessed with it as you seem to be." He tapped his stylus on the desk. "And I never – er – never had the chance to be…er…with someone…nice…" His voice faded.

"I – if you, if you ever wanted to, I could – could – we – uh – you know – uh – together?" He couldn't say it, dammit; he hoped Arthur would get what he was driving at. He knew his face was flaming red. So was Arthur's.

"You – er – ?" Arthur asked this in a confused whisper, flicking his eyes towards the security camera with a panicked scowl.

Fuck, Lovino had forgotten all about that. He grimaced and nodded. "Let me write for a while," he now said, and pulled a blank notebook out of his supply box.

Why hadn't he thought of this before? They could write their conversations on paper, and he could lock up the notebook at night so nobody else could read it. And – and then, next summer, when they weren't able to see each other, he could reread it, and think about –

He took this new notebook to his desk.

Arthur pretended to work but Lovino could see his eyes darting back and forth, not settling on the tablet. He scribbled _Sorry, I forgot about the camera_ and shoved both the notebook and pen towards his roommate.

The blond took it and read it. When he realized the pen was there, he picked it up and wrote _You want to __write__ about this?_

Lovino shrugged and nodded. Arthur tapped the pen against his cheek, apparently thinking. The Italian reached out and took the pen and notebook. _I know that might have frightened you. I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you._ Arthur read this and nodded with a shrug. _But I would be __very careful__ with you,_ Lovino wrote_. I could show you how nice it feels. Just with my hands, or my mouth,_ he wrote, trying to reassure his friend. _Nothing intrusive. You can trust me._

_I know I can trust you. I'm just not sure __I__ could – _Arthur stopped writing and Lovino hurriedly grabbed the pen and notebook.

_You don't have to do anything. Just lie with me while I do it to myself? Maybe just rub your hands on my arms and chest? You always smell so nice and sexy; I know it would turn me on just to know you were lying next to me._ Lovino stopped writing and grinned. _It's turning me on now just thinking about it._

_What about the cameras? If the bloody principal ever saw it, it would probably give him __ideas__ again._

Lovino nodded sadly. "Oh. Yeah," he said aloud. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Arthur shrugged. His eyes flicked to the camera again. _Not enough room in the closet or the dead zone,_ _either, _and he actually started laughing and handed the pen and notebook back. Did he look relieved? Lovino couldn't be sure. He thought for a minute longer and then had a brainstorm.

_Program B?_ He heard his roommate's sharp intake of breath. _Is that a yes?_

Arthur took the pen and notebook but didn't write anything for a while. Lovino stayed quite, quite still, watching thoughts hurry across the bright green eyes. _If it makes you happy_, his roommate finally wrote, _I'll try it with you._

Lovino gave him his best brilliant smile, though it felt awkward, because that smile didn't get used much. _I promise you I'll make you feel so good,_ he wrote, and then locked up the notebook so he could focus on his homework.

…

"Throw that paper away," Arthur muttered, the next day, on their way to class.

"What? Why?"

"Don't be stupid! If anybody sees that – "

"Bastard, who the hell's going to see it? I keep it locked in that box, in our room, under my mattress. The only person who could even get to it is you, and you already know what it says!" Lovino was mighty perplexed at this bizarre request.

"Oh. Right." Arthur rolled his eyes and laughed. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't be an idiot."

"Yes, all right, all right!"

"What do you have to do tonight? Just homework?"

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. I don't have any _things_ to do tonight."

"Program B?" Lovino asked him in a low tone. Dammit, he hoped Arthur would say yes.

"Well – er – well, yes, if you really want to." He blushed a little.

Of course Lovino really wanted to. But he curbed his eagerness and simply nodded. "All right, then. See you after work duty."

"Right." Arthur split off to go to his Esperanto class (which he shared with Gilbert) and Lovino to History of Earth Politics.

…

Both of them were very nervous all evening. Luckily Lovino didn't have much homework tonight. He was _so afraid_ that Arthur would change his mind –

"It's almost time for bed," the blond finally said, in a hesitant tone. Lovino raised his eyebrows inquisitively, and Arthur subtly nodded. _Whew._

When Program B began to run, Lovino walked calmly over to his friend's bed, where Arthur was now sitting bolt upright.

"I'm – I don't – "

"Shh," the Italian whispered. "Relax; just let me." He was strongly determined to make this a good experience for Arthur, both to take away the bad memories of the stupid principal from last year, and to pave the way for more playtime. Lovino sat next to him and took his hands, quietly holding them, smiling into his friend's trusting eyes. "Just relax," he murmured again, rubbing his thumbs over Arthur's cool hands.

Arthur took some deep breaths. Lovino let go of his hands, reaching his own up to caress the reddened cheeks softly and sweetly. He knew he had to be very tender, very caring, and not aggressive at all, but oh, this felt so nice, even just sitting here and touching him this way. When he saw the blond's sweet smile, he leaned closer, pressing an experimental kiss to his lips. Almost a baby kiss – the type of kiss a preteen boy might give his younger sweetheart. Arthur let out a soft moan – little more than a breath – and Lovino kissed him again.

This time Arthur responded, his lips warm against Lovino's. His arms came up to embrace the brunet. Ah, that was good, that was so sweet. But Lovino was not going to jump him. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist and pulled him closer, and for a few minutes they sat and kissed, smiling, taking their friendship to a new level. Lovino was quite relieved, in the back of his mind, that Arthur wasn't freaking out. It felt amazing to be holding him, kissing him, like this. Like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

He caressed his roommate's face again. That asshole Antonio had always crooned Spanish words of love to him, but Lovino – although he knew every fucking English curse word there was – didn't know any English terms of endearment, and he would have felt stupid saying anything in Italian, which Arthur didn't understand. And Esperanto would be just too fucking idiotic. So he didn't speak at all.

In a minute he gently helped Arthur to lie back on the bed and slipped off both their pairs of pants. He lay atop the blond, just kissing again. Dammit. _Dammit!_ This felt so fucking good he'd bet he could get off just from lying here, feeling the subtle friction of Arthur's cool silky skin against his own. Ah, Lovino was going to treasure the memory of this night for the rest of his life.

He left off kissing and slid down his friend's body a bit, stroking the pale skin with its light dusting of fine blond hair, just as he'd promised himself earlier. He heard a little gasp from Arthur and checked on him, but the blond had his eyes shut and was shifting against him in a way that left no doubt as to his enjoyment. Lovino moved even lower.

Now, he had no experience doing this to a man, only receiving it. But Arthur was contributing so much to their plan that Lovino was willing to do this for him. He was going to make this an equal partnership, even if he had to take this submissive role to do it. He used his hand to tease his roommate a little, thinking best about how to do this in a way that would be the most seductive, the way that would please Arthur the most.

Lovino approached the new task slowly, getting his hands accustomed to the sensations before closing his eyes and taking that first, more intimate, step. He heard Arthur's sharp pleasured intake of breath, and knowing that he was making his friend feel good gave him the courage to abandon his carefully-constructed seductive moves, and simply do what his instincts told him to do.

…

By the time Arthur had reached his release, there were only ten minutes left in the hour. The blond was nearly in tears. "I'm so sorry – there's not enough time – "

But Lovino interrupted him. "There's enough time. Move over, just – just hold me, touch me. You were so damn sexy." He put his hand on himself and began working almost automatically, taking deep breaths, feeling the warmth of his friend next to him, just as he'd dreamed of. Arthur put a hand on Lovino's chest and began stroking. At first he was hesitant, but then seemed to get intrigued; Lovino, whose eyes were closed, felt fingers rubbing his nipples, caressing his abdomen. Then he felt Arthur's hand tentatively slide down to cup his privates, and he exploded suddenly into the best orgasm he'd ever had, his breath rough and ragged, his pulse pounding.

"Dammit," he gasped. "That was – that was – "

But the countdown clock had begun beeping. They had only ninety seconds left. He sat up, cleaning himself off quickly with his pants, and gave Arthur a perfunctory kiss. "That was _awesome_, bastard," he grinned. "Let's do it again sometime."

Arthur nodded. "Okay. Go." He pushed Lovino over towards his own bed before the program ended.

The brunet paused to fling his messy pants into the laundry basket. He grabbed a clean pair and shuffled into them quickly. "Good night," he said, collapsing onto his bed.

"Good night," was the whispered response, in the dark.

…

Arthur seemed quite distraught the following day. "Are you all right?" Lovino asked.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine." But he didn't seem like it.

Shit, Lovino didn't have time to chat about this; they were already late for classes and he didn't want to get punished! "Dammit, let's move," he said, jittering in place; Arthur finally finished packing his bag and they ran out of the room for the day.

…

By the time he got back to the room after work duty, Arthur seemed to have recovered. He greeted Lovino with a little smile and continued writing.

But the brunet was worried. Had he pushed his friend too far, too fast? Had Arthur only said yes because he felt Lovino was so desperate? He didn't know how to broach this topic, even without the fucking security camera watching them. Lovino was very worried. If he lost Arthur's trust – because of stupid _sex_ –

And then he had an idea. He pulled out his homework and sat at the desk, and then he stretched out his foot and rubbed it against Arthur's. They hadn't done that for a very long time, but he knew his friend would understand.

And he did. Arthur kept working, but his smile grew sweeter, and his foot rubbed against Lovino's for a few moments.

All the same, Lovino felt he would wait a while, before suggesting they try that again.

…

Of course he was unable to hold himself to that promise. Knowing that Arthur was willing to play seemed to increase his sex drive even more. Mindful of the restrictions of Program B, he kept it to a minimum, but whenever he felt it was safe enough to risk it, he asked. Arthur always said yes, so he couldn't have been that upset about it.

Until tonight. Dammit! Arthur had tried to stop him from doing the usual routine. "Why?" Lovino asked him. "We're done talking, and you're all caught up on making the shit. Let's just play." He pushed the blond back down onto the bed and slipped his pants right off, practically ripping them.

"Lovino, stop! Can't you just listen to me?" Arthur looked quite angry.

"What's the matter with you?" He sat on the bed. Fuck.

"Why do we have to do this every time? Why can't we just – "

"Bastard. Are you saying you don't like it? I do my damnedest to make you feel good, and – and – " What a _bastard_ he was. Lovino always put Arthur's needs first, always took the submissive role. What more did he want?

"I never said I didn't like it," the blond barked back at him. "If you'd shut it and listen – " But then he clapped a hand over his mouth. "S-sorry."

"Don't be sorry, dammit. Just say whatever the fuck you want to say!"

"Why is it always all about sex? Is that all you ever think about anymore?"

Lovino blew out a breath. "I find it hard to believe that after, what, six times we've done this, _now_ you're turning into a fucking prissy virgin?"

"Shut it!" Arthur, still naked, burrowed under his covers and turned away.

"How the hell is this attitude helping anything?" When Arthur didn't respond, he yelled, "Dammit! I know you can hear me, stupid! Answer me!"

Arthur flipped over, still with that very angry expression on his face. "Why is it always all about you?"

"Me? _Me?_ How is it all about me, you – you jackass," he blurted, knowing he was hurting Arthur but unable to stop himself. "How the hell can it be all about me when _I'm_ the one giving _you_ the blow jobs?" He punched the mattress, not quite daring to strike his friend.

"Nobody asked you to, you selfish git!" Arthur looked like he wanted to throw the pillow at Lovino, but he didn't.

"Selfish. That's rich, you idiot. Dammit, quit fucking around! We only have ten minutes left."

"That's right. 'Hurry up, bastard; I only have ten minutes to get myself off, so, hop to it.'"

"God _damn it!_" Lovino yelled, throwing Arthur's pants at him. They didn't travel very far and fluttered onto the covers. "I wish you could hear yourself. You aren't making any sense at all."

"I don't give a damn," Arthur told him. "Anyway, I'm making sense to _me._ Not my fault you can't understand plain English."

"_Vaffanculo!_ Don't get all high and mighty with me," Lovino snarled. "Just because you're the blond, English, perfect boy, doesn't mean you can – "

But now the countdown timer started beeping. This interruption sobered them both, and they looked at each other warily. Shit, Arthur had tears in his eyes. Dammit. Lovino didn't even really understand what the fuck they'd been fighting about, but he didn't want to fight at all.

"F-forgive me?" Arthur said, over the sound of the beeps.

Lovino nodded and reached his hand out. "Me too. I'm sorry."

They held hands for a moment. "Get back to your bed," Arthur begged him, flicking his eyes towards the camera. "We can talk tomorrow."

Lovino felt tears in his own eyes. He nodded and slipped into his bed just as the beeping stopped.

For several minutes he lay in the bed, his heart aching, his mind confused, and then he had an idea. "Arthur?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"Listen, I can't sleep. Can I come over and talk to you?" He held his breath.

"Yes," the blond said, quite definitely. "I can't sleep either."

Relieved, Lovino came over to the other bed; Arthur had taken advantage of the dark to slip back into his lounging pants. He sat up and Lovino joined him. "I'm very sorry," Lovino told him again.

Arthur's hand snaked out and clasped his almost in desperation. "I am too. I guess I've just been a little stressed lately."

Lovino took a deep breath and leaned against him. "Are you sure that's all it is?" Because if it was anxiety about the sex, he would absolutely back off. He wanted his friend to be safe, not fearing him.

"Eh. Probably. I should be all right tomorrow." He squeezed Lovino's hand. "Do – do you think we can risk a good-night kiss?" he whispered pleadingly.

"Come over to the dead zone," Lovino murmured back.

Together they got up and walked behind Arthur's desk chair, where Lovino reached out and gathered his dear friend into an embrace. Arthur put his arms around Lovino's neck and they held each other for several minutes, settling and trusting. He stroked the messy blond hair, feeling calmer, and kissed his cheek. "We'll be all right," he murmured, hoping they would be, feeling his roommate nestle closer.

"I – I hope so," Arthur whispered, lips soft and warm against his cheek.

"Let's get some rest," Lovino then suggested. "We're both pretty stressed."

Arthur nodded and they shared one sweet kiss. "Yes. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night." Lovino kissed him once more and went back to his own bed. He waited until Arthur had slipped under the covers and then closed his eyes to think, and hopefully to sleep.

But not to cry. Absolutely no fucking way.


	10. Sweeping Changes

**Sweeping Changes.**

Between the conversation about Manuel and the launch of that night's Program B, Arthur spent all his time deep in thought, not focusing on his work. The bloody Esperanto wasn't going to get any better at this point; there was no point in trying to do anything about it now.

He had always wondered just what made Lovino so – so desperate for sexual contact. It wasn't as though they were like lovers; no, during their nonsexual interaction they were clearly only friends. Arthur always had the feeling that Lovino simply needed the release. That he pleasured Arthur just so he could have a warm body next to him when he himself climaxed. And having now experienced that, he could certainly see that point of view.

All he knew of his roommate's sex life was that he masturbated a lot, he'd given in to Antonio – Arthur didn't know the details of that, didn't quite know what that "giving in" had entailed – and that Lovino had seduced a young female housemaid one summer. Was his interaction with Arthur an attempt to prove his masculinity? Surely not. He wouldn't be fooling around with another man, if he felt that way. Or – or maybe he – er – missed Antonio, and this was how he pretended they were together?

No. He wouldn't disparage the Spanish git so much, if that were the case.

Eventually Arthur came up with a plan to get through tonight's program with his nerves intact. He decided that tonight he would try to change Lovino's reasons for the physical contact. He was going to be very careful, very humble. He wanted to show Lovino, through his touch, through his kisses, how strongly he cared for him, and that this meant more to Arthur than just a sexual exercise. The brunet always jumped right in towards release, but Arthur would control the scene tonight (he hoped), and lead his dear friend through a slower, more intimate and sharing experience.

Arthur was not yet ready to speak words of love; he suspected that would lead to another fight, for Lovino was still so cold inside and would not accept that. But he thought that he could try to thaw Lovino's defensive heart this other, more subtle way.

His thought process was this:

All his own experience with sex, up to this point, had been either abuse by the principal, masturbation, or letting Lovino pleasure him.

He hated and feared the principal, but the tosser had left him alone ever since his suicide attempt. And they had Program B to protect them from his possible prying eyes. So Arthur was – well – _fairly_ certain that he was no longer in danger from that angle, as long as he kept out of trouble.

He trusted himself, of course, which is why he let himself wank in the shower from time to time. Nothing to fear from his own hand.

And – and he did trust Lovino. If he hadn't trusted him so much, he would never have agreed to start all this in the first place. He trusted Lovino with heart, mind, body. The kindness and patience that the brunet had shown him in their previous sexual encounters made a big difference to Arthur's attitude towards physical contact in general. But if he kept holding back, or kept taking and taking and never sharing, they would never be equals. He often felt that Lovino was doing this for him out of obligation – though he couldn't figure out why – and hoped that if he took care of Lovino's needs, on the next level, his friend might relax more, and they could become even closer.

He also hoped that willingly doing this for the one he loved would take away some of the pain from doing it to the sodding principal last year.

So he took a deep breath, putting away his homework, and got ready for bed, waiting for the launch of the program.

After Lovino pushed the button, he came over to the bed and lay down. Without speaking, he immediately slid his hand into Arthur's waistband, but Arthur – drawing his hand out and kissing it, holding him close, calmly suggested they save the sex for last, because he was so worried about him and they had so much to talk about. If the program ran out before they got to it, they could find a way to fool around tomorrow?

He held his breath, hoping this wouldn't escalate into another fight.

Lovino scowled at this; no doubt he'd been looking forward to his playtime all day. But he agreed, because they did have a lot to talk about. Arthur pulled him closer, enjoying the warmth of his body. They'd never taken the time to just cuddle like this before. He was a little surprised that his roommate had agreed. Arthur was very, very comfortable holding Lovino like this.

Lovino too relaxed a little and put his mouth near the blond's ear. "I think Manuel is pissed off about Martín for some reason, but I couldn't quite figure it out." He kissed Arthur's ear a few times; the blond put a hand on his hurt cheekbone. "He wasn't giving me an explanation, you know, just pounding the shit out of me."

Arthur stroked his hair, supporting him. "Do you think maybe he's jealous? Because Martín is always talking to you now?"

"Maybe, but then why would Manuel take the _things_ from me?"

"Maybe he wants some, but can't afford it? If he's afraid to ask Martín for some. Doesn't want to seem needy, or – or poor? Or, well, maybe he just wants to put a dent in our business. Hurt us."

"He doesn't know about you, idiot. Nobody but Gilbert knows."

"I – I've been worrying about you all night, ever since you came back," Arthur whispered into his ear, letting his lips brush against the warm skin, taking Lovino's hand and lacing their fingers together gently. "Remember how we sort of recruited Gilbert to help us out?" He kissed those fingers.

Lovino nodded, looking confused.

"I think we should recruit somebody else. Somebody to be a bodyguard for you."

"Fuck. I don't need a damn _bodyguard_," Lovino spat, raising himself up on an elbow. "Chigi!"

But Arthur bravely drew him back down and stroked his hair until he calmed down. "Shh, relax. Yes, you do. If people are beating you up, then either you need a bodyguard, or we need to stop doing this. Because I can't stand the idea that people are able to walk up to you and hurt you, without me there to fight for you." He ran a thumb over Lovino's bruised cheekbone again.

"Don't think you're going to bodyguard me, idiot. You barely have enough time for all your other shit." His voice was rough, but he snuggled against Arthur again, taking deep breaths. That was good to see. And it felt sweet, too. Arthur felt as if he were the protector now, instead of Lovino. He'd never felt that way before, and he really liked it. Things seemed to be going well.

He kissed Lovino's hair, his soft, soft hair. "I know. I didn't mean me. I think we should see if there's somebody else we can recruit."

"Yeah, but who? Anybody who's tough enough to recruit, I don't want to hang out with!"

"I know. I think we should ask Gilbert about it, too. He might know someone."

"You're right. You're always right." They relaxed together for a minute, sharing little kisses and smiles, thinking.

Arthur was feeling so content tonight; he drew back a little and grinned at Lovino, ready to make his move. "We still have twenty-five minutes left, unless there's something else you want to talk about."

Lovino raised his eyebrows and tried to push himself up.

"N-no," Arthur told him. "I – I want to make _you_ feel good tonight."

"You always make me feel good. Even when we're just hanging out together, it's all good." Lovino lay back and smiled at him.

"Ah, but you know what I mean. I want to – you know, like you usually do for me."

"You're serious?" The amber eyes widened.

"No, I'm joking. Git. Of course I'm serious. I've been thinking about it for a long time. Do you want this or not?"

"Now that's fucking seductive," the brunet laughed, cupping Arthur's face in his hands and kissing him deeply. "Thank you. I – I admit I fantasize about that a lot."

Arthur wasn't surprised at that. "I hope I can do a good job," he muttered. "Stand up."

"What?"

"Just stand up!"

The brunet stood up.

Arthur stood before him, removing Lovino's lounging pants and then his own. With a soft smile, he slid his arms around his friend, gently stroking his tan skin. Their lips met for a kiss, and Arthur pulled them closer together. "Your skin feels so good to touch; you're so beautiful…"

"Bullshit," Lovino blurted, but he kept kissing.

"Not bullshit." Arthur drew back and smiled at him. "I've always thought so, even before we were speaking to each other. You're very exotic to look at." He continued stroking Lovino's back and buttocks slowly, feeling that smooth, warm skin beneath his palms. His mouth moved to kiss the side of the brunet's neck, and Lovino tilted his head back to give him easier access. Oh, this was already so much nicer than their usual play. So much more intimate. Arthur was very pleased that he'd decided to try this. "Oh, Lovino," he murmured against that hammering pulse, savoring the syllables, feeling his friend press closer against him, hearing his answering murmur.

He returned his mouth to Lovino's and kissed him deeply, pulling the slim torso closer to him. "Mm, so happy," he murmured against his friend's lips.

Lovino groaned a little. "This is – so_ good _tonight," he said, in a wondering tone.

"I hope it's going to get even better for you." Arthur grinned at him and knelt, kissing his way down Lovino's chest and abdomen.

It was now or never. Focusing, he started out slowly and carefully. The blond wasn't skilled at this, but he tried to use the oral tricks Lovino always used on him, and from the sounds of things, the shifting and quiet moans, the hands in his hair, he must have been doing a good job.

Huh. He _must _have been doing a good job! Lovino didn't last very long at all. And after he'd climaxed, he was so drowsy and cuddly, whimpering a little and swaying in place. Arthur stood up and cradled him in his arms, supporting him.

Lovino wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck and pulled him close, dropping his head to rest on his shoulder. He'd never seen the brunet like this before, sweet and languid. "It was good?" Maybe his plan to make things equal – maybe it had worked. Or maybe Arthur was just a natural at fellatio. Hah.

"Oh, Arthur. How can you even ask? Thank you." They kissed one more time and Lovino collapsed on his bed. He reached up and pulled Arthur down next to him, holding him. "I just want to fall asleep in your arms, right now. That – that whole thing was indescribable. Thank you," he repeated with a sleepy kiss and smile.

Arthur kissed his forehead softly. "Falling asleep together sounds so nice, but you know I can't stay with you. Go to sleep; that's fine. You're so tired and you had a very difficult day, and we're almost out of time anyway. You can do something nice for me later?"

Lovino smiled as he laid weakly back on the bed. "Thanks. Don't let me forget."

"Good night." Arthur kissed his cheek with a smile and went back to his own bed.

He was quite relieved that it had all gone so well. He'd tried to make it more like lovemaking and less like sex, and felt that he'd been successful. He could tell that Lovino had appreciated the difference, even if he didn't understand why it was different. Arthur was already looking forward to their next Program B, to see whether Lovino changed his own approach or went back to the quick satisfaction. He really hoped tonight would change their times together.

For the first time ever after a Program B, Arthur fell asleep with a light heart.

…

Lovino didn't let himself sleep right away, despite what he'd said. He – he wanted to relive that whole scene, over and over. Something about it had been so different, so much better than any other time. He hugged his pillow tightly and thought back on all the delicious moments. It had been slower, for one thing, starting out with the cuddling and caressing in the bed, the quiet talk. Was that – was that what foreplay was all about? It was _fantastic_. He was definitely going to do that in the future, even though it delayed his gratification.

He'd especially liked the way Arthur had held him, stroked him, even when he'd murmured his name – making it sound like a verbal caress on his heated skin. Lovino felt very vulnerable right now, alone in his bed. A-Arthur thought he was _beautiful?_ That seemed so farfetched, coming from someone so golden and handsome. And yet – he knew that his friend wouldn't lie about something like that. He must really believe it! Lovino felt himself blushing at the memory and hugged his pillow tighter.

He was so delighted that Arthur could now play that way and not be stressed. Lovino felt as if Arthur's mental scars were beginning to heal, and hoped very much that part of that was due to his friendship and support.

He rolled over to face the other bed; the blond was already snoring, and soon Lovino too fell asleep with a drowsy little smile on his face.

…

The students were in a minor uproar. An assembly had been called for this afternoon, and rumors were flying. Everyone rushed to the auditorium. Lovino laughed. "Check that out. Martín must have just taken a hit." The Argentinean was half floating, dancing to a tune only he could hear. He beamed at the world in general. Manuel was nowhere in sight.

He and Arthur got to the auditorium and found Gilbert holding seats for them. The albino's face was stricken. "What's the matter with you, bastard?"

"What if they – what if this is about us?" Gilbert hissed in return. Arthur blanched at that, but Lovino kept his face calm.

"Look, stupid, if they knew about it, if they knew it was us, they wouldn't have a fucking assembly about it. They'd just come quietly in the night and nab us. So shut the fuck up about it." He plopped into the chair next to Gilbert. "Just sit down and look unconcerned, all right? Dammit, if you sit here freaking out, it might give them ideas to get nosy!"

"Uh. Yeah, right." Gilbert sat and began forcing a chat with him. Arthur's gaze swept the room.

The teachers began to shuffle onto the stage, so the three friends stopped talking and pretended to listen.

"Where's your boss?" Arthur whispered. Oxenstierna wasn't on the stage.

"Nah, he never gets to sit up there. Fucking bastards don't think he counts as a staff member. What I want to know is where the goddamn principal is?" Lovino hissed.

"Beats me. Maybe he finally collapsed under his own weight, kesesese."

"Hope so," Arthur growled. "Hope the fall killed him."

A final person walked onto the stage, a tall, slim man that none of them recognized. "Good evening. My name is Sadik Adnan." He paused while a susurration swept the room. Then he cleared his throat again. "I am your new principal. I am here to replace Principal Braginsky, who recently passed away."

The noise of the whispering stopped abruptly. Arthur was stunned. He felt Lovino clasp his hand, and Arthur turned to him with a big relieved sigh. The beautiful amber eyes were sparkling, and his friend was smiling like a child at Christmas. Arthur's heart flipped over. If they'd been alone, he would have kissed Lovino, kissed him and probably started crying. Well, he'd kiss him later, cameras or no bloody cameras. This was wonderful news!

He glanced around the auditorium and noticed a few students quietly crying, or smiling as broadly as he was. He now wondered just how many of them Braginsky had – had tortured, one way or the other.

"So the bastard's dead. Good. That's excellent!" Lovino began to chuckle.

Adnan waited a few minutes, allowing students to process the information, and then began the usual speechifying. It was basically all a repeat of this year's opening talk, concluding in just a few minutes. "Please adjourn to your refectory for dinner."

"Hey," Lovino hissed to Gilbert. "Find out how the bastard died."

"No kidding! Man, I almost wish I'd had the chance to do it myself. He whipped me all the time, the _Arschloch_," Gilbert murmured. "Come on, let's go."

…

When they got back to their room, Arthur climbed into the closet and began to rummage around. Lovino watched this from his desk with a bored expression.

"Hey," Arthur called out, in the artificial tones they used when they had something private to discuss. "Can you shine the bloody flashlight in here? I can't find my spare uniform tie and it must be on the floor but I can't see it."

Lovino fetched the flashlight and came over to the closet, kneeling on the floor and turning it on. Arthur pressed his hands to his cheeks and a kiss to his lips; the brunet kissed back quite thoroughly. "Mm, why?" he eventually managed to ask with a grin. "Not that I'm complaining." He kissed Arthur once more, practically climbing into the narrow closet with him.

Arthur grinned. "Call it celebratory. If I ever find out who killed Braginsky, I may kiss _him_, too."

"Chigi!" Lovino flung down the flashlight and backed away from the closet.

"What? What's the matter?" Arthur picked it up and came out of the closet with his spare uniform tie in his hand.

But Lovino was already on his bed with his face pressed into his pillow. "Nh. Stupid bastard."

Arthur began to panic. "What's the matter? I – I thought you were glad he's dead?" _He_ certainly was. "Oh. Maybe he died of natural causes?"

"That's not it, you idiot."

"Well, then?"

"Sh-shut up. Leave me alone."

Arthur sat on his bed and watched his angry roommate. Bloody hell. He'd thought they'd been growing closer, lately, but apparently not.

He tried to think back. What could be angering him so much? He'd happily kissed Arthur in the closet, but when the blond had told him it was to celebrate Braginsky's death, he'd gotten upset.

Maybe he just didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he was afraid there was a killer on the loose around here.

And then Arthur had a thought so horrifying that he nearly vomited. Wh-what if _Lovino_ was the killer?

No, that couldn't happen. Lovino was far too slight to overpower the massive principal.

But if he had managed to give Braginsky an overdose of Spotlight, it might have distracted the man long enough for Lovino to kill him.

Arthur scooted back on his bed until his back was right up against the wall and covered his mouth. Could this really be true?

Well…if it _was_ true…then why had the Italian suddenly killed him? To – to avenge Arthur? No. He didn't mean enough to Lovino, not to risk that. And anyway, why would he have waited until now?

Maybe Braginsky had started abusing Lovino lately. But in that case why hadn't he told Arthur? He would have expected him to share some news like that, if only for the comfort. And he hadn't been acting any different, lately.

Here he became aware that his roommate was now staring at him in confusion. "Wh-what's the matter with you, bastard? Am I that scary?"

But Arthur couldn't answer coherently; he simply said "Er" and tried to press further back into the wall. He – he would have to ask Gilbert to find out whether there were any drugs in Braginsky's system when he'd died, and –

"Arthur, what the hell's the matter with you?" Lovino sat up.

This was truly alarming. If – if his friend could drug and kill a man – an authority figure – and not blink, he was far deeper than Arthur had ever realized, and far more dangerous, too. M-maybe he was a convicted criminal, and he'd made up all that rubbish about his neglectful father? Why, oh, why hadn't Arthur ever investigated that?

"I'm sorry I yelled at you?" the brunet offered.

Arthur shook his head, still unable to articulate anything.

"Are you all right?" Lovino demanded this in a rather harsh tone and got up to come over to Arthur's bed. "What the fuck's the matter with you?"

"D-d-d-did you k-k-ill him?" Arthur whispered. He couldn't take his eyes away from his roommate. Bloody hell, what if –

Lovino's voice changed to a hiss. "Kill who? _Braginsky?_ Arthur, have you lost your fucking mind?" He plopped down on the bed next to him and Arthur froze. He was afraid to shift himself away in case it angered Lovino and made him snap.

"Well, you – you – "

The Italian turned his face down towards the mattress and shaded his eyes with his hand. "Jesus. How the hell do you suppose I could do such a thing? I mean, fuck, yeah, I'm glad he's dead, and I – if I'd had the balls, or the strength, to do it, I might have done it last year, when I found out what he'd been doing to you. But – Christ, how could you imagine I could take him down? A big bastard like that?"

"Oh," Arthur moaned; this was going to set their friendship back so much…why hadn't he dissembled?

But Lovino reached out and took Arthur's other hand. "I'm sorry that I snapped at you in the closet. Though I don't see how you got from that to this." He laughed a little. "Please calm down? Please?"

That was extremely surprising. Arthur had expected a blow-up. He took a deep breath and tried to speak rationally. "W-will you tell me what the problem was?" he asked, very quietly. This was Lovino, his best friend, whom he loved. Not a man who killed people. He took a few deep breaths while he waited to see if the Italian would answer.

"Shit, I don't even know. Kiss who you want," the brunet snapped, dropping his hand.

"What are you talking about now?"

Lovino shook his head, squeezing it between his hands, and then growled. He beckoned Arthur closer. "You said you wanted to kiss the guy who killed him."

"Well, yeah! I mean, probably not actually _kiss_ him, but I'd be very happy to thank him, as long as he wasn't some random murderer that might come after us."

"Oh. I – uh – I didn't want you kissing anyone else, you dumb bastard," the brunet whispered, red-faced and staring at the floor. "J-just me, dammit."

"Oh!" That was it? How could Lovino even take Arthur's comment seriously? On the other hand, that was a very sweet thing for him to say, very unlike him, and it completely took away Arthur's fears about him possibly being Braginsky's killer. "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't really do it." He grabbed Lovino's warm hand again. "My lips are yours to command."

Lovino snorted and looked at him with relief. "Good." They smiled at each other for a moment. "I'm going to write for a while, now."

"That's fine. I – I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions about that other thing." And he _was_ sorry.

"Cheh. It's kind of funny, actually. Someday you'll have to tell me your thought process about it."

Arthur nodded, and Lovino went back to his diary.

…

"Y-you're joking_,_" Lovino stammered. "Dammit, that's disgusting!" He tapped the ash off his cigarette.

"Nope. It's awesomely true."

"What the hell is the 'blood eagle,' anyway?" Arthur asked. The three of them were on the rocks outside, relaxing after class a few days later. When they were together, they always lit up plain cigarettes. Gilbert had astutely pointed out that customers would watch Lovino to see where he got the shit. If Arthur and Gilbert acted like customers, it would throw off suspicion. They always "bought" cigarettes from Lovino before they sat to hang out together.

More often than not, Arthur lit up and promptly forgot about his, but Lovino and Gilbert always flashed theirs around in big gestures, making it obvious to everyone that they were smoking.

Gilbert went on to explain. "Well, it's a Viking thing, from like a bazillion years ago. Very barbaric. First you lay your victim face-down. I guess you have to immobilize him somehow, because he has to be alive to do it right. Then you cut a slit down his back, and you – uh – reach in and pull his lungs out through the slit. So they look like wings lying on his back. Wings. Eagle. Right? Blood? And so he suffocates and dies."

Arthur leaned over the edge of the rock and threw up.

"Kesesese! Man up, Artie."

"Sorry," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. But at least now he was a hundred percent convinced that Lovino couldn't have killed the bastard. There was just no way. "Don't talk about it anymore. That _is_ disgusting."

"No shit," Lovino agreed. "But, you know…I'm glad Braginsky is dead. And I'm even more glad it was some rotten, painful death."

"That's apparently what happened to the guy who killed him, too, though. When they found him in his office, his body was cold, the blood eagle had been cut into him, and he was covered in vomit."

"That is fucking _excellent_."

"Shut the hell up about it!" Arthur leaned over the side of the rock again.

…

Once he'd recovered, they talked to Gilbert about the need for a bodyguard. He couldn't think of anybody offhand except Manuel. "That's the stupidest thing you've ever said, bastard. Apart from the fact that fucking Manuel is the one who beat me up, it can't be someone that buys our shit!"

"Manuel isn't a customer," Arthur said, confused.

"Dammit, you know what I mean. Martín is our best customer, and he and Manuel are – are – "

The other two nodded. "Well, then we have to look at non-customers," Gilbert said unnecessarily.

"Idiot."

"There are some non-customers I refuse to approach about this," Arthur then said. "Francis, Antonio. Zwingli."

"Zwingli's a customer, though," Lovino told him with surprise.

"Oh! Hah, you're doing such a good job of keeping me out of the loop that I had no idea."

"I…think I might have an idea," Gilbert said slowly.

"Who? What?"

"No. Let me turn it over in my awesome brain for a few days, make sure there's no problem. Then I'll tell you."

"We'll have to observe for a while after that. Make sure we're not endangering ourselves." Lovino bit his lip.

"Yeah, like we did with this git," Arthur laughed, punching Gilbert in the shoulder.

"Shut up, Artie. Hey, I have to go; I have some stupid homework I need to do."

"Yeah, I have shit to do too." Arthur stretched and jumped down off the big rock, crushing out his cigarette. "And I need to brush my teeth. Ugh!"

The three friends snorted and went back to their dorm rooms.

…

"Mr. Beilschmidt."

The albino, not normally a man who feared people, feared Mr. Adnan already. The man was a complete unknown quantity. He sat behind the large antique desk, that same damn desk that Braginsky had repeatedly bent Gilbert over before thrashing his bare ass with a rattan cane. He clenched his fists, trying to appear calm and guiltless, waiting for Adnan to speak further, but he was terrified. Had they found out about the drugs? The near-constant hacks into the school administration system? The –

"Mr. Beilschmidt, please take a seat." Adnan gestured to the chairs before him, his face an impassive mask.

Pressing his lips together, Gilbert did so, and nodded.

The new principal cleared his throat. "I have been looking through the school records." He picked up a dainty coffee cup and sipped, not looking at Gilbert, who could feel himself sweating. _Calm down, calm_, he told himself, hands still clenched so tightly that hours later the deep crescents from his nails were still indented in his palms. "I see that you are an orphan."

This was so unexpected that the albino didn't process it, for a few seconds. "Uh? Oh, yes, sir."

"Beilschmidt, I know why you're here, but there's an anomaly in your file."

Oh, _Scheisse._ He couldn't remember doctoring his file but he'd just bet –

"Ex-principal Braginsky's records," Adnan continued, and oh, how sweet that "ex" sounded to Gilbert, "show that you were convicted of infiltrating financial systems."

Gilbert cleared his throat. "N-no, sir, I was not convicted. I w-was sent here as a, a, a warning, I suppose." What the fuck was Adnan driving at?

"That's the anomaly, Beilschmidt. I checked with the courts system and they concur with your statement. I am merely trying to make heads or tails of Braginsky's admittedly slipshod filing system." Almost without pausing for breath the man asked, "Did he ever violate you?"

"Hm? No? _Oh,_" Gilbert realized. "Absolutely not. He – he caned me all the time, sir. At least in my first year." He didn't think this would lead to anything unpleasant; it was, after all, the truth, and anyway, the fat bastard was dead. But the albino was still on guard.

And then he realized what Adnan had been getting at. "You mean he – uh – violated other students?" His voice had risen alarmingly and he half rose out of his seat in disgust before once again remembering that Braginsky was dead. Could not hurt him, or anyone else, any more. He sank back into the chair, horrified.

"That was not my question, Mr. Beilschmidt. Do you believe you were treated unfairly, when he caned you, or did you deserve it?"

Hell, of course he'd deserved some kind of punishment; when he'd first come to Jones all he'd done was mouth off at the administration.

Of course, if he told Adnan that he _hadn't_ deserved it, that might raise some red flags about his own credibility. "I can't say for certain, sir," he eventually prevaricated. "I had been somewhat insolent about being sent here, and I suppose if he had considered that, uh, insubordinate, or something, it might have justified the whippings." He hoped that was abject enough without seeming cheap. "He never really said."

Adnan nodded and sipped his coffee again. "Why are you in a single room?" he asked.

_Scheisse_, they were going to make him have a roommate, and that would fuck everything up. "I requested one, sir. I had the money to pay for it, and I was very – well – I was not interested in socializing with any of the other students, because I was afraid my roommate would be a – a criminal. And I did not want to deal with that."

"Perfectly understandable," Adnan agreed. "Are you feeling any more integrated now? You're in, what, your third year?"

Why did he need to ask? He'd just confessed to reading Gilbert's file. But the albino took a deep breath. "Yes, sir, third year. I – uh – I get by, sir." Hell, if he sounded too cocky, they'd give him a roommate to take him down a peg, and if he sounded too needy, they might do it to force him to socialize more!

Maybe he could ask Arthur to be his roommate, if he had to have one. At least that way they could work together.

"Very well. We will leave you in your single room," Adnan smiled. "I hope you will continue to thrive in your studies. You seem to be doing quite well."

"Yes – uh – uh – thank you, sir."

"Dismissed."

Gilbert walked sedately from the room, maintaining his composure all the way to the doors of the building. He could see Lovino and Arthur at a table in the quad, and began to walk over to them, bursting with the need to talk.

And then he suddenly thought _What if Adnan is watching me?_ and detoured to circle the library and go straight back to his room. Damn! He hoped that neither of his friends had seen his indecision. He'd avoid any, _any_ illegal activity for a while. He had Esperanto with Arthur tomorrow. He could talk to him then.

Sitting on his bed, examining the deep grooves in his palms, Gilbert shivered, and prayed that his run-in with the administration was wholly over.

…

"I need to talk to you," he hissed to Arthur after Esperanto.

"Well, come outside to study, git. We have loads of time. Lovino has work duty but we can finish our homework out there."

Damn it! Arthur was speaking in a completely normal voice! "Keep your voice down."

"What's the matter?" The blond, picking up the cue, glanced around furtively. "What's wrong?"

"Just – just come outside and let's sit." They hastened to one of the tables in the quad and sat opposite each other, pulling out their tablets to work.

"Right, so, what's the bloody problem?"

Gilbert took a deep breath. "I had to go meet with Adnan today."

"Bollocks! About what?" Arthur's voice had dropped even lower.

"Not – not anything, really. He wondered whether I was doing well in my studies, and he talked to me about Braginsky a little bit. It was so – so nonchalant, that I wondered if he was going to start watching me, see who I hang out with, or whatever. So I was thinking maybe we ought to back off for a while."

"That'd suit me. I'm still bloody exhausted, even though you help me so much." Arthur tapped his stylus on the table. "But you realize that he could easily have been watching you – us – _before_ he talked to you. So it's rather pointless to avoid each other now."

"Huh!" Gilbert blew out a breath. "I hadn't even considered that. Kesesese! Okay, cool. But, you'll talk to Lovino about – about a break?"

"Sure. That'll be good while we look for our bodyguard. Did you make any progress with that yet?"

"Give me another couple of days."

"Ohonhonhon!" they heard behind Arthur. Both of them glanced up to see both Francis and Antonio smiling pleasantly at them. Antonio moved to sit beside Gilbert and Francis beside Arthur. "How are you today, adorable ones?"

"Get stuffed," Arthur growled, pretending to work.

Francis put a hand on his hair and began stroking it. "Now, now. That's not very nice."

"Do you want me to kick the shit out of you, you idiotic frog? Leave us alone."

Antonio grinned at Gilbert and then leaned over the table to stage-whisper to Francis, "But of course the delicious Lovino sucks his cock every night, Francis. He doesn't need – "

"Shut – the – hell – up!" Arthur dropped his tablet and scrambled over the table, throttling the Spaniard.

Gilbert, grinning, didn't want to be left out; he jumped over the table to pummel the stunned Francis. "_Französischer Schwein! _Kesesese!_"_

It seemed like ten full minutes of fighting, while Gilbert pulled Francis' hair, smashed a fist into that pretty French face, kicked and snarled and generally let out all the tension he normally had to keep bottled up. He was having a ball! And then –

"Mr. Beilschmidt? Mr. Kirkland?"

_Oh, fuck…_

Both Gilbert and Arthur stopped fighting and scrambled up and to attention. Arthur mopped his sweating face with the hem of his shirt; Francis and Antonio continued to lie on the ground. Gilbert could see Francis smirking at him, despite the blood and dirt smeared on his face. Pig. Other students had ringed the area, watching the drama unfold.

Mr. Adnan motioned to two of the teachers with him. "Please take Mr. Bonnefoy and Mr. Fernandez to the infirmary." The teachers helped the injured students to stand. The four of them walked off in a group; Antonio turned to direct one last smirk at Arthur, who growled under his breath, eyes narrowed.

Gilbert was still jittering. Coming on the heels of his earlier discussion with Adnan, he had no idea what to expect. Under the Braginsky regime (as he continued to think of it), nobody would have given a flying fuck to see students fighting. What kind of trouble were he and Arthur in now?

"Please come to my office." Adnan gestured with his hand and after picking up their gear the two friends followed him.

They had only gone a few steps when someone in the watching crowd began to applaud. Just one single person, clapping slowly as they passed; but soon it became a torrent of applause. Gilbert couldn't fight his grin of pride, and Arthur was looking mighty smug, too. Guess those fuckers had pestered just about everyone here. He caught the eye of Kohler, that big blond bastard, and saw him smiling that same grin he always smiled. Despite his worries about punishment at Adnan's hands, Gilbert found time to wonder whether Antonio or Francis had ever tried getting grabby with _him._ He'd looked Kohler up in the school database. Nah. Antonio and Francis would be dead now, if they'd tried.

They reached the school building and followed Adnan to his office, where he took a seat behind the desk. "Well, gentlemen. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Neither spoke.

"Very good. Now, given what I know of those two delinquents – and given the surprising show of support that you met with after fighting them – I do not intend to punish you at all. I've read through the records of every student here, quite thoroughly, and I know which students are true criminals, or simply troublemakers, and which are not. You two are not. Therefore, we will treat the incident as closed."

Gilbert began to grin.

"However – "

Ah, fuck, there was always a _however, _wasn't there?

"However, I don't wish the entire student body to get the idea that they can go around thrashing each other. That is not the atmosphere we wish to encourage." Adnan rose and went to the cabinet that Gilbert knew so well. _Scheisse_, it all boiled down to another whipping. Damn it.

He shot a glance at Arthur to see how he was taking it, but the blond was composed. Maybe Braginsky had never beaten him, so he didn't know the cane was in the cabinet.

Adnan walked back to the desk with the rattan cane in his hand. "Luckily for you, we have no witnesses," he said, and Gilbert's eyes widened in fear.

He heard Arthur inhale sharply. "S-sir?"

_Whack!_ Adnan hit the desk with the cane. "If anyone asks, I punished you for that fight, do you understand?" _Whack!_

"Sir?" Gilbert asked, more forcefully than Arthur had. He didn't get it.

_Whack!_ "Groan a little, for the look of the thing, will you?" Adnan grinned.

And as they both understood that the cane would not be touching them, they both smiled and took turns groaning and begging wildly for mercy, stifling their laughter, after every whack of the cane on the big antique desk.

…

_I hope all you readers are also happy that Principal Braginsky died a miserable death. And I'm sure _you_ can guess who killed him._


	11. Facing the Truth

_I'm happy to see so many old friends and meet new reviewers! Thanks for your encouraging words._

_Forever-Awesome94 asked about the 'blood eagle.' If you look it up you'll see that it was indeed believed to be a Viking murder rite for a very long time, until recent translations of old documents resulted in a more plausible, less gory method of killing. I have to say I was almost as queasy as Arthur, when I was writing the details down._

…

**Facing the Truth.**

"I don't like this, though," Arthur admitted quietly to his friends. The three of them, sitting on a different big rock, were discussing yesterday's fake caning scene.

"What? Why not? It was awesome!"

Arthur fiddled with his jacket's zipper pull. "Well, this is what I mean. What if Adnan is trying to – to lure us into complicity? That scene, it was supposed to make us think he's cool, and fun, and maybe now he'll be asking us to do stuff we don't like. And we would help him because we like him. Theoretically."

"What do you mean? Stuff like what?"

Arthur was completely right, and Lovino couldn't believe Gilbert was so clueless. "Snitch on other students, stupid, or shit like that. Spy shit. Why aren't you more suspicious, bastard?"

"Hey, I don't need to be suspicious. I'm someone who does things, not someone who has bad things done to them."

Dammit. Arthur paled but tried to look nonchalant. Lovino didn't know what to do; he wanted to reassure him. Aha. He held out his cigarette to Arthur and took Arthur's in exchange. This surprised a smile out of his roommate, and the color came back to his face.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Gilbert tried to trade his with Lovino.

"Never mind, bastard. Just be more suspicious, all right?" Lovino smacked his hand away.

"I'm also worried that Adnan will pay more attention to us now that we made ourselves so obvious." Arthur's gaze shifted to his fingers, now twisting nervously together in his lap as he watched the cigarette burn down. "Or even that Antonio and Francis will be out to get us in a serious way. Depends what happened to them after the fight."

"Well, the Adnan thing's easy enough to fix," Gilbert said. "Take a break from the business. As for the other two fuckwits, I've got the bodyguard lined up, so Lovino should be safe. I don't mind fighting! Kesesese."

The blond nodded. "I don't mind fighting, either, but I – I'd like to take a break from the business," he admitted, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

"Yeah, we can take a fucking break from it."

"No need to be so unawesome about it. Arthur's still pushing himself too hard, you know."

"I know, dammit! Just – just – whatever. I agree with Arthur. We need to be on guard against Adnan." Lovino punched the rock. "Ow."

"Against everyone," Gilbert added nastily. "If we're being suspicious."

"Look, let's just calm down, all right. Don't worry about me. Lovino, tell the bloody clients that your supplier can't get what he needs, or whatever. Just put them off for a little while until we figure this out."

"Cheh, yes, all right." He flicked some ash from his cigarette onto the rock and rolled his eyes. "What's up with the fucking bodyguard business?"

"I said, I've got someone," Gilbert grinned. "But if we're taking a break – "

Arthur looked up. "We still need the bodyguard. Manuel or those other wankers might be out to get him; get Lovino for a revenge on you and me, or something."

Lovino twisted his mouth in a scowl, but he was interested to see just what the albino had up his sleeve. "Whatever, bastards. Who's the guy?"

"Meet me here tomorrow after class, all right?"

"Going to tell us who it is, git?"

Gilbert considered, and then shook his head _no._ "Better you find out tomorrow. You'll get a better night's sleep that way. Kesesese!"

"All right, all right, forget that. I wanted to ask you something else, something I thought of after Arthur told me about the fake caning."

"Shh! Shh!" Gilbert made frantic shushing motions. "Nobody's supposed to know it's fake! If Adnan finds out we told you, he might – well, I don't know what, but he'd probably give us detention, at least. Extra work duty."

"Yeah, all right. Anyway, we – uh – we haven't talked much about escaping lately."

"Thought you lost interest," Arthur pointed out. "You've been so confident and cocky nowadays, I thought you wanted to stay here and be the big man on campus."

Lovino punched him, but Gilbert laughed. "Stupid," the brunet said. "No, I'm still thinking about it. I've been thinking about it even more since you got the" – his voice dropped to a stage whisper – "fake punishment. I can't quite make the decision yet, but if Adnan is changing things as much as it seems, then maybe we don't need to escape."

"But the longer we stay here and try to stay in business, the riskier that will be."

Lovino shrugged, considering this. "How much money do we have, bastard?"

Gilbert named a ridiculously high dollar amount.

"What?" both Arthur and Lovino yelled, then hastily hushed themselves. "How the fuck did we get so much?" Lovino wondered, before remembering that Gilbert was a genius at bank raiding.

"Investments," the albino said, surprising them both.

_"Investments?"_

"Yep. You didn't think I was doing something illegal, did you? You did! Kesesese! Oh, Lovino, how you wound me. I'm crushed." The albino clutched at his heart, laughing, and Lovino had to grin despite himself.

"Shut the fuck up and tell me about the damn investments."

But now Arthur began laughing. "How can he tell you about them if he has to 'shut the fuck up'?"

"Dammit! Everybody stop laughing."

Everybody stopped laughing, including Lovino, and he gestured to Gilbert to continue.

"Ahem. No, I invested some of it in some new technology, and it's taken off, back on Earth. I put in about fifty grand and it skyrocketed! Plus there's the stuff making money for us in regular bank accounts and things. So if we ever do get out of here, we're totally golden."

"No _shit._" Lovino couldn't believe it. "Even split three ways, we could probably live pretty reasonable lives with it, without ever having to work, as long as we didn't try to be flashy playboys." Both Arthur and Gilbert snickered at that. "Dammit, stop that. And then, even if we just bide our time here until graduation, we could still use the money when we leave."

"Assuming this technical firm doesn't go belly-up in the meantime," Arthur realized, poking Gilbert.

"Nah. I'm keeping an eye on things. If it shows signs of heading south, I'll sell out."

"As long as you know what you're doing, albino bastard."

"Kesesese! I awesomely know what I'm doing. All the time. How could you even doubt me?" He fluttered his eyelashes at the Italian, who snorted.

"So, it kind of sounds like we could leave anytime, right? We have the cash, we have the destination. I'm going to keep this idea in the back of my mind for a while. Arthur may be right, though," he then conceded. "Maybe there's no point in leaving. Especially if we dial back on the business."

"Right. Well, whatever, just let me know. I'm going inside; it's getting cold here. Are you two staying here?" Gilbert slid off the rock.

"Eh, let's go in, yeah? It's getting dark, too. Tomorrow's Friday, so we'll meet you here tomorrow with your mystery bodyguard?"

"Yep, after our last class. You'll be pleased, I know."

"We'd better be, you idiot." Lovino punched him in the shoulder and stalked off; Arthur, less hasty, gave Gilbert an apologetic shrug and hurried after him.

…

"Oh, shit, no," Lovino moaned.

"What? What's the matter?" Arthur turned to see what his friend was looking at. Oh, Gilbert was chatting with that guy Kohler. That's who he'd chosen for the bodyguard? Bloody hell. Lovino would be the safest bloke at the school, unless Kohler beat _him_ up. "What's wrong with you?"

"He can't possibly want to recruit the Killer!"

"What? Kohler's the one who killed him? How did you find out? Why is he still walking free?"

"What are you talking about, bastard?" Lovino finally stopped staring and turned to his friend in confusion.

"What are _you_ talking about? Who killed who?"

"You're making me nuts. That bastard that Gilbert is talking to right now, his name is Killer."

"No, it isn't. It's _Kohler._"

"Stupid. I don't care what his real name is. He killed a guy with his bare hands!"

"Who? Braginsky?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lovino's voice had escalated so loudly that Gilbert heard him and turned to wave. "No, no, no." He shook his head and turned away, but apparently his curiosity was too great. He turned back again. "He can't be serious."

"Listen, git. Shake yourself into focus and tell me about him." Arthur grabbed his arm and drew him out of sight of the other two, since he kept getting sidetracked by the sight of them.

Lovino explained what he knew about the Killer, which was pretty much all hearsay. "Nobody ever talks to the bastard!"

"Well, if they're all scared of him like you are, that makes sense." Arthur pursed his lips while he thought. "So he didn't kill Braginsky?"

"How the fuck would I know? I don't even know how Braginsky got into this damn discussion!"

"All right, all right, just calm down, will you? I don't know either. Let's just forget about the dead git for now."

"Yeah, all right. Now, listen, though. If Gilbert thinks we should recruit the Killer – "

"Stop calling him that!"

" – then, well, well, _shit!_" Lovino yelled.

"Kesesese! Hi, guys!" Gilbert and Kohler appeared from behind the rocks.

Arthur looked at Kohler objectively. Sure, nobody wanted to fuck with a big bloke like that. They had math together, and physics – this year Arthur had skipped chemistry so no one would connect him with Lovino's drugs – and now that he thought about it, nobody ever really talked to Kohler. Not that he ever remembered seeing. "Hi," he said pleasantly. Maybe Kohler was in the same boat as the rest of them, just a lonely guy. He'd trust Gilbert's judgment, at least for now, and see what happened.

Lovino hadn't said anything, so Arthur elbowed him in the ribs. "Uh, h-hi," the brunet managed.

Kohler nodded. "Hello."

"Mathias and I are going downtown," Gilbert said with his winning smile. "Want to come with us?"

"Mathias?" Lovino blurted. "Oh. Uh. Sorry, bas—uh, sorry." He was bright red, and clenching and unclenching his hands.

Arthur tried to think of something to say to buy some time for him to calm down. "My name is Arthur," he decided, holding his hand out to shake Kohler's. Mathias'. Hell, if Gilbert was already chummy enough to go downtown with him, he must have made up his mind already. He cast a glance at the albino, who was simply standing there and grinning crazily.

"Hi." Mathias shook his hand with a big grin. "I see you in physics. You're pretty smart."

Arthur blushed. "I – I have my moments." But Lovino was now looking at him with pride, and that made him feel pretty good. "Do you know my roommate Lovino?"

The two shook hands. "We have physical education together again this year. I never knew your name, though."

"I'm – I'm a pretty private bastard," Lovino stammered, shoving his hand into his coat pocket.

"Well?" Gilbert demanded, seemingly unaware of the awkwardness in the atmosphere. "Are we going downtown or what?"

"Sure, git, let's go. Okay?" he asked Lovino.

"I – I don't mind. Anybody want a smoke?" Lovino pulled the dummy pack out of his pocket.

"Eh, not me," Arthur said.

The others turned him down as well, so he stowed the pack and they all headed downtown, with Gilbert and Mathias side-by-side in front, and Arthur with Lovino behind them.

Lovino turned to him and made a face. A panicked face. Arthur almost laughed aloud. He reached for his roommate's hand and squeezed it. He wanted to keep holding it, to reassure him, but Lovino shook his head and yanked it away.

Well, they'd see how things went. If Gilbert had a good feeling about Mathias, then – well – Lovino would just have to deal with it. Arthur began humming a little tune as they walked, listening to Gilbert's nonsensical chit-chat, and enjoyed the walk to the town.

…

"So, b-bast-uh, Mathias," Lovino stammered. "I have always w-wondered why you're here. At Jones." He tried to stretch, sitting on the picnic bench, and the fact that he shifted closer to Arthur in the process was completely incidental. How could his roommate be so calm around this gigantic killer? But he _needed to know._

"What have you heard?" Mathias countered. "I'm sure people talk about me. They all shut up when I come into a room."

"Ah. Well, you – you really want to know what they say? Didn't the – didn't Gilbert say?" Lovino was terrified. He shifted closer to Arthur again, this time not even bothering with any subterfuge.

"Come on, Lovino, don't be so skittish. Just say." Gilbert reached across the table and poked him.

"Th-they say you tore a man apart with your bare hands," Lovino muttered; now that he said it out loud, he felt like a blazing idiot. How stupid that sounded.

"I did," Mathias said quietly, staring at his hands as though he couldn't believe they'd done such a thing.

Arthur stared in shock, but Lovino scooted right up against him. Dammit! He felt Arthur take his hand under the table and they held on to each other tightly.

"But – but he was robbing an old lady," Mathias went on, with a bit of a wobble in his voice. "I was coming home from the store, and I saw him grab her and pull her into an alleyway. I guess he wanted to take her purse or something. But I couldn't just stand there and let him threaten her that way."

Nobody said anything, but Gilbert now placed a reassuring hand softly on Mathias' shoulder.

"It was like I went berserk! I couldn't stop myself. I should have pulled him away, I should have just stopped him, but I just kept going until he was dead. Worse than dead. He was basically pulp, when I was done with him." The tall blond now sounded very pleased with himself.

Lovino shot a quick glance at Arthur to make sure he wasn't feeling queasy again, and he was surprised at the look of interest on his roommate's face.

"So I'm sentenced here," Mathias concluded. "I have one more year to go after this."

"I'm sorry," Lovino then said. "I shouldn't have brought it up." Fuck, who wouldn't do something like that? Not that he could actually manage to kill someone. He knew he wouldn't even have the courage to attack a bastard like that, especially someone bent on crime. But then he felt Arthur's hand squeezing his again, and relaxed. It wasn't something he had to worry about.

And – well – maybe Mathias was a fucking scary bastard, but – maybe he wasn't really so bad? That was a totally legitimate reason to hurt someone. Yes, he'd overdone it, but…well…whatever. Lovino took a deep breath and squeezed back.

"It's all right," Mathias said. "What's done is done." He took some deep breaths. "I hope you guys are all on the level. I don't want to hear a lot of shit about this from other students."

"Believe me, I wouldn't tell," Lovino hurriedly said. Fuck, no!

"Yeah." Arthur sighed. "I don't want people knowing about me, so…"

Gilbert interrupted, and Lovino was glad. He wasn't quite ready for Mathias to know why they were suddenly talking to him. "We've all noticed you being kind of alone," the albino said, which struck Lovino as abrupt and stupid, but Mathias laughed at him and cuffed him lightly on the side of the head.

"So you waited three years to talk to me? Hah. Took you that long to get up your nerve?" He grinned that grin that had always looked so creepy, and Lovino realized it was genuine, just a happy smile. He felt miserable inside. How long had Kohler wanted to befriend someone, and no one would, just because he _looked scary_?

"I'm – I'm sorry, bastard," he said, without realizing the word "bastard" had slipped out. "I was – I was terrified of you. I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, looking at the table.

"'S all right," Mathias decided. "Not like any of the other jackasses around here ever tried talking to me."

Arthur looked skeptical. "Nobody? Not even your roommate?"

That's true, Lovino wondered. Even he and Arthur had managed to become friends, antisocial though they both had been.

"My roommate's a little scared of me. He – he does little favors for me, and we talk, but it's not like having an actual friend."

"We'll be friends," Gilbert abruptly announced, and Lovino and Arthur nodded in hesitant agreement. "We were all just the same way."

"Cool. Though it is a little strange that all three of you suddenly decide to hang out with me. Is there some other reason?"

Not stupid, then, this Killer. Lovino grinned despite his lingering fear.

"Hey, did you know everybody calls you Killer?" Gilbert said, instead of answering the question right away.

Lovino kicked him under the table – and then he felt the jolt as Arthur kicked the albino, too – but Mathias laughed out loud. "No! I've never heard that. Killer. I like it. I mean, it can't make me any _more_ scary, right?"

The others breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes Gilbert was an ass, but sometimes he was right on target.

"L-listen," the brunet then said. "I – I call everybody 'bastard' around here. Okay? P-please don't take it personally?"

"Fuck, you can call me Cupcake if you want to," the blond giant laughed. "I really don't care."

"Nah. Keep calling him Killer. It's better for the business," Gilbert nodded.

"Business?"

Whoops. Guess they were committed to telling him, now. But Gilbert had vetted him, so…

Lovino checked the area for eavesdroppers, but they were alone. "We…I…need a bodyguard," he started out. Dammit, he felt so stupid, saying it out loud, but when Gilbert and Arthur nodded their agreement he at least felt a little support.

"For what?"

"Tell him, bastard." He nudged Arthur with his elbow.

Arthur raised his eyebrows towards Gilbert, who gave him two thumbs up, and then launched into a _sotto voce_ explanation of their drug business and the problems it had been recently causing for Lovino.

Killer's eyes widened. "So it's you!" He reached out a hand and shook Arthur's across the table. "I'm really glad to meet you! Sure, I'll help."

"Huh?" Lovino wondered. Why was that so important to him?

"Oh. Uh, well, I have my reasons," Killer laughed, scratching his head. "Don't want to talk about them just yet."

"Fair enough," Lovino decided. They all had shit they weren't ready to share. "So you'll do it?"

"Sure. Tell me what you need me to do."

The four of them put their heads together over the table and discussed it. In the end, they decided that Lovino would have to stick to a certain sales schedule, rather than just wandering around and taking orders from people. That way Killer could accompany him each time.

"I'll be happy to go thrash that Chilean for you today, if you want," Killer then laughed. "That dickhead is always making rude comments about me when he thinks I can't hear him. Wouldn't mind pounding him a bit."

"Ah, forget it, bastard," Lovino responded. "It's past. Just don't let him do it to me again."

"Kesesese! This is awesome; now we have everything in place."

Lovino kicked him under the table. "Are we allowed to start up again?"

"I can catch up this week," Arthur announced. "I'll be good to go by next Friday."

"Sure," Gilbert agreed. "I think we can start, maybe keep it a little lower-key than before, in case Adnan gets snoopy. Everybody keep being suspicious," he laughed, making Lovino snarl again.

"Do you want us to pay you?" Arthur asked Killer.

He laughed. He was really a very lighthearted bastard, it seemed. "Tell you what. Every time I have to get in a fight to protect Lovino, then pay me. All right? Because if all I'm doing is standing around looking menacing, there's really nothing to pay me for."

Lovino looked at him in disbelief. "Well, shit, if you're just standing around, we're wasting your time, and you should get paid."

"What the hell would I use the money for? Nah. Keep the money; use it for what you need."

"Deal," Lovino said, shaking the powerful hand. He did feel a little frisson of fear at Killer's touch, but managed to overcome it. "Come on, bastards," he then muttered. "Let's get back before they start sniffing around."

The four friends left town and wandered back to the school, idly speaking of this and that, and when they reached the library, they parted for the day.

…

"Dammit," Lovino said to Killer. "I need to get out and about tonight. Are you free?" It was physical education time, and they were running on the track together.

"I'm always free. Want me to put on my mean face?"

Lovino actually grinned at him. "Show me."

Killer made a menacing expression and they both burst out laughing. "Bastard, if you can keep that face on all evening without laughing, I'll pay you even if you don't get in a fight."

"I'll take that bet." They shook on it. "Where should we meet?"

"Huh, well, meet me in front of the library and we can go from there. Arthur has to – to work in the closet tonight." Didn't he just. They were completely out of supplies except for the meager handful of crystals Lovino had in a pouch in his pocket. Once they were gone, the fuckers would start pestering them again.

"He _what_?"

Oh, that's right. They'd never bothered to explain to Killer how the process went. Lovino looked around and muttered, "Because of the security cameras. He works in the closet. Except once in a while we use this computer program Gilbert made us, that interrupts the camera signal."

"Why don't you use it more often?"

"Don't you think they'd get suspicious, seeing the same exact thing on the security monitor every night? The albino bastard thinks so." He quickly explained about Program B.

"Well, that's brainless. Just make a different recording and call it Program C, or something, for different nights."

"We're a bunch of idiots," Lovino realized. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Beats me. Hey, I can't keep up this slow pace; I'm going to run faster. See you at the library."

"Right."

…

"That's brilliant," Gilbert breathed, when they told him Killer's idea about Program C. "I really can't see how I can be so brilliant myself and have failed to think of something so awesome. We should make an afternoon one for you."

Lovino kicked him. "Good idea. Now stop talking about how awesome you are. Just get us a new card and let us know when to record it."

"Right, chief." Gilbert blew him a kiss.

"Grr. Albino bastard."

…

An exhausted Arthur was just winding up his closet time when Lovino came back to the room that night. "Anything interesting going on?" he asked. He looked so tired.

"Come and sit with me," the brunet decided, patting the bed next to him.

When Arthur sat down Lovino immediately wrapped an arm around him and drew him closer. "Eh?" his roommate asked, gesturing towards the camera.

"Fuck the camera. I want to hold you and I don't care who sees it." Lovino squeezed him a little. "Uh. I mean, if that's all right with you?"

Arthur smiled at him. "All right with me. Besides, now that Braginsky's gone, I don't even know whether anybody would care about that stuff. You know?" He took Lovino's other hand and they rested their heads together. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Gilbert's going to make us a Program C," he whispered, taking the opportunity to kiss Arthur's ear a little bit. Just a little.

But the blond refused to be derailed. "What's that? What for?"

"Idiot. Just like Program B, but different, so we can use it more often and not evoke suspicion. It'll be an afternoon program." Lovino bent his knees up and rested his cheek on them, watching Arthur's green eyes light up as he realized the implications. "So you can have more time to work out here instead of in the closet."

"Why didn't we think of this before?"

"Because we're a bunch of fucking idiots. Mathias thought of it in PE class."

"Huh. Brains _and_ brawn."

"I wonder who his roommate is," Lovino idly wondered.

"He should room with Gilbert next year."

"Nah. Gilbert worked too hard to get that single room. He'd never give it up."

Arthur shrugged and shifted closer. "He might. I mean, what's he got to hide from Mathias?"

"Beats me. But then, he might have all kinds of shit going on that we don't know about." Lovino, smiling softly, pulled their joined hands up to his mouth and began kissing Arthur's fingers. "I wish we could play tonight," he murmured. But they'd run Program B once already this week. It was too risky.

"Mm. Next year I'll try to get a job in the security station. Then you can come down and we can fool around, and we can be sure nobody's watching. Doubt they have cameras monitoring the security room."

"You're brilliant too," Lovino whispered, and Arthur uncurled his fingers to stroke his roommate's face. "Want to sit in the dead zone for a while?"

"What for? Not enough room for anything – er – constructive." He laughed a little.

"Ah, just sit and snuggle, I guess. Make out, for a little while. I'm feeling very, I don't know, sort of cozy right now."

"How can I say no to that? I love being cozy with you. I'll turn out the lights, you get a blanket. We can pull it over us for camouflage."

When they'd awkwardly settled themselves, Arthur first asked whether anything special had happened with the clients tonight. "No. Just me and Mathias, wandering around; Cuba bought some."

"Okay, I didn't really care about that. Kiss me."

Lovino snorted. "Idiot. Come closer."

The space behind Arthur's desk was quite cramped, but for the next hour or so, neither of the friends seemed to notice.

...

A week later Lovino and Mathias made their rounds again, passing a lighted cigarette back and forth for show. Business was back on track, and hanging around with Killer had left Lovino feeling very secure in his presence. "I usually meet Martín over here," he said, gesturing around the building. Killer nodded and they rounded the corner to instead find Manuel waiting, with a sneer on his face. This expression quickly changed to laughter.

"Ha ha! The little pussy has to have a bodyguard!" the Chilean laughed, clearly not realizing what that would mean for his own safety.

But Lovino instantly flared up. "Shut up, you – you fucking _homo_," he hissed.

This just made Manuel laugh louder. "Like you're not? I know you've got to be letting that blond baby fuck you every night, you weak-ass Ital– " His words cut off as Killer grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him right off the ground in one powerful hand.

"Shut up," he grinned, right up close to Manuel's face. "Just shut the fuck up, stupid."

Manuel shut up but Killer didn't set him down yet. "Uh – hey, man, you – " He hung awkwardly in the air, legs waving gently as his feet sought purchase, but his eyes were wide and fearful, and he didn't struggle. Killer just kept grinning into his face, and Manuel closed his eyes and began to whimper.

Lovino, breathing deeply, was intensely grateful for Mathias now, and for Arthur's suggestion of a bodyguard. But – that Arthur was _fucking him_? This was what everyone thought?

No, he could worry about that later. "Where's _your_ bitch, stupid?" he asked Manuel.

"Che, Vargas, sorry I'm late." Martín breathlessly rounded the corner. He stopped short at the sight of Killer holding Manuel in the air. "What the hell?"

Killer set Manuel down gently. The Chilean shrugged his clothing back into place. "Fuckers," he muttered, in a tone low enough for everyone to pretend to ignore.

Martín cleared his throat. "Seriously, what's going on here, Vargas?"

Lovino was in no mood for explanations. "Do you want this shit or not?" He held the packet out.

"Oh, hell, yes, you know I do. Give me double." Martín pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet. "Some to share with Manu, so he doesn't have to beat you up again." He winked at Manuel, who blushed and turned away.

"That's why he did it?"

"Poor Manu. Too scared to ask me for a treat." Martín laughed at his boyfriend's blushing face. "Ah, calm down, will you? I told you I'll buy you whatever you want. I've got all sorts of treats for you." He patted the scowling Manuel on top of the head, grinning maniacally.

Bastards. Lovino made the exchange and handed the cash to Killer for safekeeping. "Thanks."

"Thanks, Vargas, you're a treasure." He winked; Lovino snorted. Martín immediately slipped a crystal under his tongue and caressed Manuel's face. "Here, _flaco_, here is yours." Manuel opened his mouth without meeting Lovino's eyes (Killer was benignly standing by) and accepted the crystal. "It will be so good, you know?" Martín crooned. "Let's go to our special place." His eyes were already beginning to glaze over a little.

Manuel, apparently less attuned to the drug, simply nodded and grabbed his hand; the two of them wandered off without a backward glance.

"Fuck, that was weird," Killer laughed, scratching his head.

"No shit. I'm going to go back to my room now," Lovino decided. "I have a lot to do and that shook me up a little. Keep the cash."

"This is, what, like, six hundred dollars?" Mathias sounded amazed, and Lovino laughed as they walked back out into the common areas.

"Cheh, yes. Don't worry about it. Buy Gilbert a present if you don't want it." He laughed a little more.

"Oh! That's a great idea. Gilbert's awesome, just like he always says."

"Don't tell him that, bastard. Just don't. We'll never hear the end of it." Lovino punched Mathias weakly in the arm, making him laugh, and they split up for the evening.

…

Contrary to what he'd said, Lovino didn't head back to his dorm room right away. He needed to think about what Manuel had yelled out. Did – did everybody think Lovino was gay? Arthur's bitch? This made him feel intensely angry, though he couldn't have said why. He and Arthur were close, but fuck, it didn't mean he was a goddamn _homo!_ He was just taking what he could get at this place!

And anyway, even if they were fucking, _Arthur_ wouldn't dominate. Hah.

Lovino paced around the hallways of his dormitory for nearly an hour, thinking about this, and then realized he needed to get homework done. He headed back to the room.

As soon as he saw Arthur at his desk, though, he stopped short, and all that thinking came flooding right into his mind again.

"Hi," the blond said in an easy tone. "Busy night?"

"Uh – uh – " He couldn't figure out what to say. Lovino settled for "Yeah," before coming to his desk and pulling his tablet out.

"A lot?"

"Six," he said offhand; this he could discuss without feeling weird. "Gave it to Mathias."

Arthur lowered his voice. "Whoa! So he finally had to fight for you? Cool. I guess he did a good job; you're unmarked. Who was it?"

"Manuel." The goddamn bastard. Maybe he _should_ let Mathias pound the shit out of him.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. Just let me work." He could tell Arthur was watching him, dammit, but he didn't know what to say, and he didn't want to look at him, either. Fuck that damn Chilean and his brainless commentary!

He concentrated on his homework so fiercely that Arthur eventually gave up watching and moved to his bed.

Later, he asked Lovino if everything was all right. "Nh. Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, goddammit, I'm sure!" He threw his stylus down; it bounced off the desk and rolled under the bed, and he bent down to retrieve it, cursing in Italian.

"Doesn't sound it." Arthur had been reading, reclined, but now sat up. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No," Lovino stated firmly. Absolutely not. He sat back down at the desk.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, I'm going to bed, then."

"Suit yourself."

Fifteen minutes later the blond was asleep, so Lovino relaxed, taking a break from the homework. Dammit. He'd need to get a grip on himself and start acting normally. But – but if everyone thought –

No. Arthur was his friend, and Arthur wouldn't give a flying fuck what these other bastards thought.

Well, of course he wouldn't! Not if they thought he was the dominant one.

Of course everyone would think that. Arthur was strong, and blond, and good-looking, and despite what he'd said to Lovino during that one night of – of – of fooling around, Lovino was weak and dark and _not beautiful._ Arthur must have been lying to make him feel better.

Fuck.

…

Over the next twenty-four hours Lovino managed to force himself into nonchalance when talking to Arthur; it was now the weekend, and his roommate was on the floor, busy making merchandise during Program C. Lovino lay face-down on his bed, writing (not writing) in his diary, still obsessing about Manuel's comment.

The blond finally finished and put his things away; there were about fifteen minutes left in the hour. He crossed to Lovino's bed and sat down; the Italian froze and then shut the diary quickly. "I think you should tell the customers you're having supply problems again. I could use another little vacation. And I think you could too."

"Wh-what?" Lovino didn't know what else to say. "What the fuck are you talking about, bastard?"

"See? That just proves my point. You haven't called me 'bastard' in a really long time. You're exhausted, for some reason." Arthur put a hand gently between Lovino's shoulder blades and rubbed his thumb lightly on the back of his neck. "I don't like seeing you so tense."

Three days ago Lovino would have leaped at the chance – especially during a Program B or C – to let Arthur take away his stress in a special way – but tonight he was still so conflicted. He didn't say anything, and his friend's confusion was almost palpable. "Lovino?" Arthur finally asked quietly. "I know something's wrong. Are you hurt? Won't you tell me about it?"

His voice was so caring and concerned. Lovino felt very weak right now. He didn't want to cry in front of Arthur, dammit. "We only have a few minutes left," he growled, trying to squelch his feelings.

"Meaning what?" Arthur asked patiently. When Lovino shook his head, not answering, he asked, "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

He didn't know how to answer that. Arthur must have sensed that his refusal was an answer in itself, because in a few seconds he felt the hand withdraw, felt the bed shift a little as Arthur got up and walked to his own bed.

"Good night, Lovino," the blond said, carefully.

"Good night," he managed, covering his head with the blanket and pressing his face into the pillow. Dammit! How he hated that _stupid Chilean fucker_!

…


	12. Some Deeper Fear

**Some Deeper Fear.**

Sitting at a table in the quad, Mathias stretched. "Has Lovino been talking to you much this week?"

"No, but I try not to talk to him a lot. I don't want people associating us, because of the business," Gilbert explained. "Every now and then we have to have a meeting, but when I can, I just talk to Arthur. We have a couple of classes together, so it seems more natural, like we're just studying and talking. I don't have any classes with Lovino."

"Oh. He's seemed a little off, but I don't know him that well yet. Wondered if something was wrong."

"Well, if it is, Arthur will help him out. They're really good friends."

"That's good. Now that I have some friends I want you all to be happy."

"Kesesese! We are, my friend, we awesomely are. Though I did catch Adnan giving me a funny look today. Ah, whatever. Maybe he was just admiring me." Gilbert buffed his nails on his shirt with a lazy grin.

"Come for a walk with me?" Mathias sounded a little nervous. And he hadn't laughed at Gilbert's joke. The albino wondered what might be wrong with him. That joke was awesome. Maybe his friend was sick?

"Sure," he agreed.

The two of them meandered around the boulder fields for a while before Mathias could get up his nerve to speak. "What's the problem?" Gilbert eventually wondered. "I can tell you want to ask me something. You can ask. I don't mind."

Killer sighed. "You know I was convicted of murder, right?" Gilbert nodded. "I – never thought about what would happen at the end of my high school term. Right? I mean, do I graduate and then just sail merrily off into the sunset? I was so pissed off about all this, and then for a long time I just didn't care. So I didn't think about it. But you know Zwingli, right?"

"What about him? I know he was convicted too."

"I haven't seen him around lately," Mathias pointed out. "At all. I tried to do a little digging or whatever, detective work, and I have no idea where he went. He's the only guy that I _knew_ had been convicted. And now he's suddenly gone. I know he was a year older than me, but I'm kind of worried. What actually happens to us criminals at the end of high school?"

"Don't say 'us criminals,'" Gilbert told him. "You're not a criminal. You just – you – " He fell silent and reached for Killer's hand; the spiky-haired blond gripped back tightly.

"Can you find out? Find out where he went, or – or any of the other guys who were convicted? I'm a little afraid to go to Adnan or someone, especially because everyone knows I'm not friends with Zwingli. It might make them suspicious."

"Kesesese, sure, nothing to worry about. I can check it out tonight." He kept holding Mathias' hand, which surprised him, but it felt reassuring. The two of them were friends, and he needed to look after Killer just like Lovino looked after Arthur. He didn't care if anybody saw them. Lots of people held hands around here. But he hoped Mathias wouldn't be embarrassed.

His friend wasn't pulling away, though. "Can you check it out now? I'm really sorry, Gilbert, but I'm getting worried. It's starting to obsess me a little. I haven't been able to sleep lately because of this."

He did look a little tired, at that. Gilbert squeezed his hand and let go to turn around on the path. "Sure. Let's awesomely go look. You can come up to my room for a little while without getting in trouble."

Mathias nodded and they headed back. Well, they would look things up and put his fears to rest. Probably Zwingli got paroled, or something. He mentioned this, and Mathias cheered up a little, but not much.

The albino was generally not an introspective kind of person, he knew. But in the last couple of weeks the two of them had gotten to be very close friends, and he was glad for whatever twisted workings of Lovino's mind had brought them all together. This one thought had occurred to him over and over, and he _was_ glad of it. He would make sure Mathias was put at ease, and someday, when they had time, he'd thank Lovino properly, too.

…

"Uh." Gilbert sat before his most powerful tablet – the one he always used when trying to sneak into the administration records – and blanched.

Mathias, seated on the bed, raised his eyebrows. "What did you find out?"

Gilbert held up his hand for a moment, requesting silence, rereading what he saw on the screen. Then he beckoned Mathias towards him. When his friend was in place, he pointed to the reports:

**Zwingli, Vash: Terminated 05/06/59**

**Von Bock, Eduard: Whereabouts unknown**

**Hassan, Gupta Mohammad: Terminated 05/10/58**

**Honda, Kiku: Terminated 5/23/57**

There were more like this, dates stretching back, but both Gilbert and Mathias were too stunned to keep reading. Fuck! Von Bock and Hassan, he knew, were convicts also; Von Bock had been a government hacker, Hassan a low-grade thief. _Terminated?_ Zwingli being terminated he could kind of understand, but _Hassan_? Stealing didn't rank the death penalty! What kind of fucking place _was_ this?

"We've got to get you out of here, my friend," the albino hissed, breaking the connection to the school databases, powering off the tablet.

Mathias, when he looked up, was almost painfully white. "I had no – no idea."

"Sit down." Gilbert led him to the bed and they sat.

The stunned blond stared across the room. "Gilbert, I'm terrified," he confessed quietly, mindful of the camera. "I'm strong, and young, and I don't want to – to be _terminated_." He put his head in his hands and Gilbert tried to hug him.

He too was terrified, but he would not show it in front of Mathias. Gilbert leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry. We have been planning escape for a long time."

Mathias' head jerked up. "You and Lovino and Arthur?" he mouthed silently.

"It was mostly Lovino's idea," Gilbert nodded. "He's not here for a crime – I looked him up – and I don't think he knows about what we just read, but he's been talking about escape since practically the day we met. That's why we're selling the drugs. To make money for when we get to a new place."

"But – but will he want me along? If you have all had this plan – and I haven't helped much – " Mathias' eyes were feverish, but his expression was now hopeful. Gilbert hugged him again.

"Of course he will. Don't be stupid. Everyone will want you along, even if it had nothing to do with – with that." He jerked his head towards the computer tablet again and reached a hand up to pat the spiky blond hair. "Don't worry. You're our friend now. We'll take care of you."

Mathias sagged against him. "Can we talk to him soon?"

"Awesomely soon. It's too close to curfew tonight, but when you see him or Arthur tomorrow, tell them we need to talk. I can be free whenever they are."

"Thanks, Gilbert."

"Buck up. Don't act weird or someone might guess that you know."

Mathias now reached out to embrace him. "I thought I was going to go through my whole school life never talking to anyone. I'm really glad I met you."

"Kesesese," the albino whispered, hugging back enthusiastically. "Me too. Don't worry. We'll get you somewhere safe."

"Yeah." Mathias stood. "If it's that close to curfew I'd better go. I'll – I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah. Remember, act naturally and all that. Come on, I'll walk down to the lobby with you."

The friends made it to the lobby in silence and then Mathias turned those expressive blue eyes on his friend again. "I'd like to hug you again," he grinned, "but not here."

"Save it," Gilbert decided. "A promise, for – for later." He raised his eyebrows.

"Thanks for being my friend." They shook hands, an awkward conclusion to such a frightening scene, and Mathias slipped outside and back to his own dormitory.

Whoa. Gilbert had a lot to think about tonight, and no mistake. He hurried back to his room, composing mental lists of what he'd need to break down and pack.

…

"What's the panic about, bastards?" Lovino had followed Gilbert outside after their last class; Arthur had work duty, so the other three found a big empty rock and climbed up to sit on top, so they wouldn't be overheard.

In a quiet voice, holding Mathias' hand again, Gilbert explained about what he'd discovered.

Lovino paled and swayed so far to the side that Mathias reached out to grab him by the arm so he wouldn't fall off the rock. "They're _dead?_" he hissed. "That can't be right, bastard, it just can't."

"You know I don't fuck around with computers, Lovino. If the database says it, then that's what happened. Or else…it's a fake database, and that's what they want people to _think_ happened. But remember Von Bock? His name said 'whereabouts unknown.'"

Lovino ignored that and took a very deep breath, eyes flicking from one to the other. "Fuck. Sorry. D-didn't mean to sound like you were lying. Uh…we've got to get you out of here," he told the tall blond, who sighed and leaned against Gilbert in relief. "Where's the place we finally decided on?"

Gilbert nodded. "Disused outpost on Triton. One of Neptune's moons. Used to be a communications station, oh, maybe six years ago. Abandoned and never dismantled."

"Converters working and all that shit?"

"As far as I can tell, there wouldn't be any reason they wouldn't. We'll need the temporary air supplies from the pod to get in and activate it, but within ten minutes any converter should be pumping out enough to keep the four of us alive. If not, we can live in the pod and recharge the air supplies from there, until we can get it going. It'd be a bitch, but it will work."

Lovino took another deep breath and shrugged. "All right, bastards. How soon?"

"This is where I might have to put my foot down," Gilbert apologized in advance. "From what the database showed, everyone else was – was terminated in their final year of school. Now, Mathias has another year to go, so he's probably safe for a while. _Probably._ But we can't be sure, and if anyone accidentally finds out I got that far into the files, then I might be in trouble too. I think we should go as soon as we can." He and Mathias watched Lovino warily for his reaction.

It didn't take long. "How soon can you be ready?"

"Tonight? Tomorrow? I need to dismantle my personal tech and pack as much as we can carry, and – and destroy the rest. Other than clothes I don't need much else."

"Mathias?" Lovino asked.

"Just clothing. I can help Gilbert carry his stuff. But how do we work it?"

"Calm down," Gilbert told him, embracing him with one arm. "We have a strategy."

"Tell him about that later. Listen. We'll go tomorrow afternoon. All right? It's just before the weekend, and nobody has work duty over the weekend. If we're lucky we can be long gone before anybody realizes it. Who's your roommate?" he then asked Mathias.

"Vladimir. I – I think he'll be happy to see the last of me."

"Not my point. Will you be able to pack and scramble without him seeing you? They – they might torture him, or something, to find out where we went?"

Mathias' eyes widened. "Yeah. He's a little runt but I wouldn't want him in trouble. I'll send him out on an errand or something. I can do that." He took a deep breath. "Lovino, I'm really thankful that you'll do this for me. I know it's got to be stressful."

"Save it, bastard. Thank me later." Then he cleared his throat. "Thank Arthur. It's his brain that got us started."

Gilbert nodded his agreement.

"Right." Lovino poked Gilbert. "Clue him in to the 'strategy.' I'll be relying on that, all right? Arthur and I will have our own shit to carry so you're on your own. Go to dinner first. Be seen. Then meet at the pod station at…six thirty? Tomorrow night. If you're not there by seven we might have to leave without you, because once we get down there, there's no going back, and we can't hang around all night waiting in case somebody raises an alarm. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Listen, if Oxenstierna's there, don't do anything stupid. Stall until I get there. Okay? He's a good man. I want to tell him what's going on, not just knock him out and go. I'm going back to my room now, so I can warn Arthur and we can do little things to get ready ahead of time. I'll probably run Program C tomorrow after class so we can pack and shit. Don't leave yet. Let me get out of here now without it looking like we're a bunch of panicked chickens."

"Right. Thanks." Both Gilbert and Mathias reached out to touch Lovino, as a talisman, and he nodded once before climbing down the rock and hurrying away.

"I hope nobody bothers him," Mathias then pointed out. "I should be on bodyguard duty."

"Don't worry about that. He's just going right to his room, probably."

"Okay."

They held hands for a while on the rock. "Won't your family be distressed when they find out you ran off?" Gilbert had never brought up Mathias' family before, because he'd never mentioned any, but he was concerned. If he had a family, he'd want to let them know.

"Don't know where they are," Mathias told him quietly. "My grandmother raised me. My father ran off before I was born, and my mother apparently chased off after him when I was a baby. We heard later that she'd died. No idea where the bastard father is. My grandmother died about a year before the – the – you know."

Gilbert reached out and held him, feeling Mathias' solid muscles beneath his jacket. "I'm sorry I asked," he said quietly. "But you have us now. We'll look out for you, law or no law."

Mathias just nodded, holding on tightly.

"Now listen," the albino whispered. "Here's our plan." He quickly detailed the procedure the other three had come up with for escape. "It's risky – especially if we'll be carrying all my stuff – but if we look purposeful, like maybe we're taking it to be repaired, or to put in storage or something, then probably nobody will stop us. Certainly not with you along, my awesome friend." He let go and sat back to make sure Mathias was processing all this.

"I understand. What time do you want me to come over to help carry things?"

Gilbert thought. "I can run Program D – kesesese, you were so smart about that – from, say, five to six. Let's go to dinner at 4:30 together, and then you can go back to your room to get things, and then come to mine. Will that give you time to pack up what you need?"

"Sure. Like I said, all I really want to take is clothing. I can even pack some of that up tonight, probably. I'm leaving the damn uniforms here."

"Good point. Okay. I'll do what I can tonight. Five-fifteen, all right? And remember to act naturally!"

"Yeah. Come on." They slipped off the rock and headed to their separate rooms.

…

When Arthur came back after work duty he avoided Lovino's gaze, though he did greet him. "Bastard, come here," he snapped. Dammit, he wished they'd had a chance to get over Manuel's stupid comment. Tonight was Thursday evening and they were still not really speaking to each other, and now this.

But Arthur came and sat on the bed. "What?"

Lovino whispered the news, watching to make sure Arthur didn't blurt anything out, or react in any way that would be picked up by the camera. But the blond was just as experienced at dissembling as Lovino, so he sat stoically listening. "Got it?"

"Er. Yeah. I – I have homework to do," he said more brightly, rolling his eyes.

"Me too. Come on." He moved to his desk and pulled his tablet out.

Before he'd found out about the danger Mathias was in, Lovino had made up his mind to talk honestly with Arthur tonight after classes were done for the day. So that they'd have the whole weekend to recuperate from the miserable week, to catch up and become close again. His friend had grown more and more distant, and he knew – he _knew_ it was because of the way he'd been treating Arthur, because of the Chilean bastard calling him a homo, but he hadn't been able to come to grips with this situation at all. He'd even avoided talking to Gilbert and Mathias much, though they didn't know him as well as Arthur did, so they hadn't seemed to realize anything was amiss.

But they couldn't talk now. He was too focused on the panic, on the danger to Mathias, and they didn't dare run a program, because they needed to save it for tomorrow. They had to get Mathias out of here before he was – was _terminated_, fuck it all! He and Arthur didn't have time for a big emotional blowup. Well, they could escape, get to their safe place, and then talk. He wasn't going to have some big apologetic thing in front of those other two bastards in the big pod. But he would apologize once they could be alone. He _would._ He was hurting, too, and he needed to clear the air.

Lovino didn't dare rub his foot against Arthur's, or try to trade his stylus. He knew it would take more than that by now. But he couldn't focus on his work; that was the only bright spot tonight, that even if he failed to turn in his homework, it shouldn't matter in the long run. Hopefully they'd be out of here at this time tomorrow.

So the two of them worked silently until bedtime, when they wordlessly packed up their gear and slipped into their beds for sleep.


	13. Flight

**Flight.**

It was 5:45 and Arthur was still not back. Dammit, he knew of the plan! Where the hell was he?

Diaries, clothes. Lovino would love to steal some of the school's tech, but knew it would invite trouble; for one thing it might be traceable. Eyes sweeping the room, he spotted Arthur's shower gel, and stuffed that into his bag, feeling like an ass. Bag of cash they hadn't had time to deposit yet. Into the duffel it went.

Arthur burst in a few minutes later, out of breath, and nodded.

"Where the hell were you? Program C's running," Lovino barked, once the door had shut. "Get what you need."

"Throw some clothes into my bag," he begged, not meeting Lovino's eyes. "I need to get rid of the shit."

Lovino nodded. The blond scooped up his meager remaining drug supplies and took them all to the communal bathroom, where they could be more easily disposed of. Lovino packed his clothing, not knowing what else he might want.

When Arthur came back he nodded and placed all the empty containers on his dresser. He'd always camouflaged the stuff as toiletries. Lovino gestured to the bag. "I put your clothes in; didn't know what else you wanted."

"Eh. Nothing, really. Bloody hell," Arthur sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "I'm really afraid we're going to forget something."

"_Forget_ something? Bastard, I'm afraid we're going to get killed!"

"If we get killed there's nothing we can do about it. Got what you need?" Arthur was curt, possibly due to their unresolved issues, possibly just escape-related nerves.

"Yeah. Packed all my diaries, got the extra cash, and clothes. Don't know what else I'd need."

"Memory cards," the blond said, and Lovino scrambled to take the Tuscan scene and the Program B card. "We'll have to interrupt Program C," Arthur then realized. "If they search the room and find it – "

"Fuck. That might flag someone."

"Just do it. We need to go."

Lovino popped the card and put it into his pants pocket. Together the two friends took one last look at the dorm room and then, with a resolute nod, headed for the departure point.

"Why were you so late, anyway?"

"Went to see Adnan. Told him I was having trouble with my bloody Esperanto and asked if I could change to a new language."

"_What?_" Lovino couldn't believe he'd wasted time on something like that. "What the fuck for? Oh. A decoy?"

"That, and I slipped him some J in his coffee. He drinks that stuff so bitter and strong that he'll never notice it's in there. Should keep his nose off any trail for at least two hours."

"Brilliant. Come on."

But as Arthur hefted his bag its contents spilled onto the floor. "Go," he insisted. "I'll catch up." He bent down and frantically began shoving things back into the bag; Lovino hurried on.

Around the corner Antonio was walking, alone. The bastard's eyes lit up at the sight of Lovino.

"Out of the way, fucker." Lovino shoved him.

"Lovi? Where are you going, with your big bag full of things?"

Oh, _Santa Madre di Dio_, this bastard was going to ruin everything. Years of anger and frustration, as well as the current panic, rose up in Lovino, and, growling, he landed one very well-placed punch on Antonio's nose.

"Hey!" Antonio grabbed him and threw him against the wall. "Don't punch me, little one, because I outweigh you and I can raise the alarm." He smashed his body right up against Lovino's, pinning him, and slipped one leg in between the Italian's. "There is one way to shut me up, though, _cari__ñ__o." _ He grabbed Lovino's hand and pressed it to the front of his pants, laughing as he tried to kiss him.

Lovino struggled, but could not get away. The bastard had his fucking tongue in Lovino's mouth! "Get off me, motherfucker," he snarled, but he couldn't push him away.

But he'd forgotten about Arthur, finally catching up, who yanked Antonio away and slammed him up against the opposite wall. "Stay away," he snarled. "Can't you learn your bloody lesson?"

Antonio hit him, and they began to fight in the hallway. "Bastard, hurry!" Lovino begged, scooping up Arthur's bag. He knew he needed to move, but couldn't tear his eyes away from Arthur, fighting for them. For him.

Finally the blond, now with a bit of a bloody nose, throttled Antonio and slammed his head repeatedly against the wall. After a few of these whacks the Spaniard crumbled to the floor, inert. "Fuck, let's go!" Lovino grabbed Arthur's arm.

"Wait." He fumbled in his pocket and brought out two crystals and a folded packet. He poured all this into the unconscious Antonio's mouth and then stuffed the paper back into his pocket. "Come on. That will hold him." He took his bag back and wiped his nose with the hem of his shirt.

"Don't leave a trail of blood," Lovino hissed, and Arthur nodded, pressing his shirt more firmly against his nose. "What did you give him? Spotlight _and_ J? Won't that kill him?"

"Only if he does something stupid, I told you. Come on."

As they approached the docking area Lovino's panic shifted into overdrive. This would be the most difficult part of the plan. They had to drug, or otherwise stop, Mr. Oxenstierna, a man who had always been his friend. He didn't like this plan at all, but it was the only way they could escape, unless the maintenance man was away from his post.

Nope. He was standing there listening to Gilbert's babbled explanations. Mathias simply stood with his head hanging.

Oxenstierna looked up when Arthur and Lovino burst in. "L'vino? _Kirkland? _ Wh't happened t' you?" Gilbert and Mathias turned to look as well. Arthur flapped a hand dismissively, still blotting his bloody nose.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," Lovino told him in a rush. "We're going to take the big pod and escape. We need to get out of here, to save Mathias. Please – please – uh – " He couldn't think of how to say it.

But Arthur stepped in to continue. "We need to incapacitate you somehow, sir, so they don't think you colluded with us."

Gilbert pulled a length of cable from his pack, apparently back in action now that the others had taken charge, but Mathias, the center of all the discussion, stood as the calm in the eye of the storm, patiently waiting. Lovino bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and prayed that no one else would happen to show up in this area.

Arthur began fumbling in his pocket again for some drugs. His nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. "I need you to take these – these drugs, sir," he then said, holding out a crystal of Spotlight and another twisted paper that Lovino now knew had J-175 wrapped in it. "They won't hurt you. They'll just make you feel – "

But Oxenstierna gently closed Arthur's fingers over the drugs. "So it was you," he said with a little smile, which reminded Lovino of something that he couldn't remember right now. "Y'don't need to do that."

"Sir, you don't understand! Mathias is going to be _terminated_," Gilbert hissed, flexing his cable, which Lovino knew he'd planned to use to tie up the maintenance man. "We need to save him. He is completely not guilty."

Oxenstierna, who was even taller than Mathias, reached out and laid a gentle hand on Gilbert's shoulder, halting the startled albino's progress. "Y'can save him without drugging me," he said. "Unfortunately I w'sn't expecting anyone, and th' big four-man pod isn't ready t'go. I c'n only send two of you without it showing in the records." He let go and moved to the first pod in the queue. "Figure out who's going 'n' get in."

"Huh?" All of them stopped what they were doing and stared at this unexpected development. Arthur absently shoved the drugs back into his pants pocket.

Gilbert motioned behind his back, mimicking a blow to the head, but Lovino shook his head _no_. He had always trusted Mr. Oxenstierna. He'd trust him now.

"C'me on. Two 'f you get in," the maintenance man demanded.

Lovino panicked. Only two? Well, well, _shit, _Mathias had to be one. What now? "Get in, Mathias," he said, and then felt a hand in the small of his back, pushing him towards the pod. "What? Quit pushing!" Dammit, he really did want to get out of this fucking place, but, fuck! He spun in place to see that it had been Arthur pushing. Trying to get rid of him? Oh, _shit…_why hadn't they made up before this? _Dammit!_

"You're the one who really wants to go, Lovino," Arthur said in a quiet tone. He saw Gilbert nodding as well. "You go. Gilbert and I will – will be all right somehow." His voice broke on the last word and Lovino, infuriated, shoved him.

"Shut the hell up, bastard!"

"Quiet. Y'need to hurry," Oxenstierna reminded them.

Fuck. Yes, Lovino wanted to get away from here. But if he left with Mathias – "Get in the pod," he growled, shoving Gilbert before he could change his mind. "He needs you."

He was furious at the way Gilbert looked to Arthur for confirmation; when the blond shrugged, Gilbert did too, and gave Lovino a quick one-armed hug. "We'll find you again someday, I'll make sure of it," the albino said, clambering into the pod, smiling weakly at Arthur.

"Whatever!" Oh, Lovino was furious, _furious_, but – but at least Mathias would be safe…

"Thanks f'r what you did," Oxenstierna said to Mathias, just before he closed the pod door. "It helped." He launched it before any further words could be spoken.

Lovino stared after it, feeling like he'd just made a decision that would fuck up the entire rest of his life. Escape – safety, freedom from society, from authority – all those things that he'd always wanted were at the other end of that pod journey, and for some reason he'd made Gilbert go in his place.

"You two h'd better get back t'your room before someone finds y'missing. If anyone asks y'about those two, y'haven't seen them since class today. Und'rstood?"

"Sir?" he heard Arthur ask. "You – where did you – "

"Can't tell you, Kirkland. Go now. Take care 'f Vargas."

Arthur nodded and took the still-stunned Lovino by the arm. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's hurry back to the room, so we can act innocent if anyone comes looking."

Lovino shook himself back to awareness. "Nh. Yeah." Together they ran out of the docking area and back towards their dorm room.

…

_Yes, by "terminated" I did mean "executed." But remember, this is going to be a long story. Eventually everything will be made clear._


	14. Coming Home

**Coming Home.**

Antonio was no longer in the hallway. Lovino idly wondered where he'd gone, but didn't really give a damn. At least the fucker hadn't seen them with Gilbert and Mathias, so there was nothing to link them.

When they reached the room Arthur flung his bag down on the floor and kicked it under the bed. Lovino, more winded, just dropped his. He finally glanced at his friend, who was now rummaging in his dresser. "I've got to go wash up," he said, gesturing to the blood on his face and shirt.

"Yeah." Lovino moved to stand and stare out the window into space, into the darkness and the stars, sending silent wishes to his friends, hoping they would be safe when they reached their destination. He hoped the albino bastard appreciated the sacrifice he'd made.

Ah, dammit. He knew Gilbert would appreciate it. He just wished he knew – _knew_ – that they'd be safe.

Arthur slipped out of the room and was back in moments, shirtless; he grabbed a clean one from his duffel and struggled into it. The bloodied garment he wrapped up carefully and put into a drawer before walking over to stand next to Lovino. "Th-that was a generous thing you did for them."

"D-didn't do it for them, dammit. Did it for me."

"What do you mean?" The blond turned to look right at him.

"Couldn't have lived with myself," he admitted, not meeting Arthur's eyes, needing to change the subject. "But what the hell was Oxenstierna doing?"

"Didn't you know? I thought you two were friends."

"Hah, not like that. I have no fucking idea why he would help. I just hope he's not sending Mathias off to be terminated somewhere else."

"Doesn't seem like that kind of a bloke, and that doesn't make sense anyway, unless that's how they – how they treat criminals. They might not want to do the actual executions here at Jones."

Lovino shook his head, not wanting to consider that. "I thought we'd just drug him, tie him up and go. I didn't know he had some alternate agenda."

"I hope they're going to be safe. Wonder if we'll ever see them again." Arthur sighed.

Lovino didn't bother responding to that; obviously he wondered it too. But he and Arthur needed to get back to normal, and he didn't want to keep talking about Mathias, here under the security camera. He darted another quick glance at the blond. Well, the only way to get through it was to go on. "You okay?" Lovino asked, walking over to his bed and sitting down again. How stupid. Of course he wasn't okay.

Arthur went back to his own bed and lay face-down, hugging his pillow. "Still trying to figure out what the bloody hell's been the matter with you all week. I'm tired of pussyfooting around. Tell me what's wrong so we can get over it. We don't know what the future holds, and I'd hate to go down while you and I were on the outs. We promised to be honest with each other." He narrowed his eyes at Lovino.

"D-don't look at me like that." Dammit! He looked really mean, when he did that.

"Hah. Talk."

Lovino spent a few moments marshaling his thoughts. He could tell that Arthur was being patient with him, because the scowl relaxed, but he didn't smile or say anything nice. Fuck. He didn't even know where to start the discussion! "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" he blurted out, then sank his face into his hands. Dammit, how fucking childish. Of all the shit that was bothering him, _that's_ what he had to start with?

"I said I did. Did you think I was lying?" Arthur's voice was calm, but confused. "What does this have to do with anything? Somebody tell you that you were ugly?"

Lovino, still covering his face, shook his head _no. _But he had to say it, to explain it fully. They had to get through this. It was too important not to. He'd make sure of it, even though it was embarrassing to say it aloud.

"Well, then?" Arthur demanded.

"M-M-Manuel called me a homo," he whispered. "Thinks you're f-fucking me every night."

"Well, I'm not."

"I _know_ that, dammit! But I – I just – "

"Oh," Arthur realized. "You don't like it that he thinks of you that way. Thinks of us that way."

Lovino nodded. But – but he hadn't really considered the Arthur part of it. He just didn't like being thought of as so submissive. Weak. The images that conjured up –

"None of his business, really," the blond continued. "Why do you care what he thinks?"

"Bastard, I – I mean, Arthur – I just don't like it! I don't like people thinking I'm so – so – "

"Hm." This calm voice was reassuring. Lovino finally took his hands away to look at his friend. Arthur was now lying on his side, watching him carefully. "If it's that bloody important to you, tell him you're fucking me. I don't give a damn."

The brunet was astounded. "You – _what?_" he asked.

"Look. That wanker made a comment which has driven us apart for a whole week, and you wouldn't talk to me about it. I hate that. I absolutely _hate_ it. I thought we were past all that; thought this room was our safe zone where we could be honest with each other and share things, but you wouldn't talk to me. So if it makes you happy, helps you regain your masculinity, whatever, tell him whatever you want! Say I'm so desperate for attention I beg you to let me suck your cock, or tell him you bugger me senseless every night! I – do – not – care. Just don't let this – this _bullshit_ drive a wedge between you and me!" He smacked the bed.

His expression was still rather angry. Lovino took a deep, rather wobbly breath. "I couldn't tell him that," he said, realizing it was true as he spoke the words. He couldn't lie, not about Arthur, and certainly not about something so – so intimate.

"Well, then?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry that I let his stupid comment come between us."

"Honestly? As long as you and I are all right when we're alone together, I really don't care what anybody else thinks of me. Not even Gilbert or Mathias. You're my best friend, Lovino. My first and best. I'll do whatever I have to do, to keep that." He gave a short laugh. "Aren't I driving myself to exhaustion, just for you?"

Lovino was shocked again. "You – we – " He cleared his throat. "That's why you were doing it? For _me_?"

His friend's green eyes crinkled at the corners as he finally smiled. "I just want you to be happy. You were so excited about the whole thing, and from all you'd told me, there hadn't been that much in your life for you to get excited about. I thought it would be nice to help you have fun with it. And you did have fun. If – if it were just me, I wouldn't have bothered." He looked down at his bed, and in a much more subdued tone admitted, "I wouldn't have risked it."

_"Dio mio,"_ Lovino choked out, finally breaking down into the sobs he'd been trying to hold back for over a week. He bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees, covering his face in shame. How could he not have seen that? What a fucking bastard he was, to have driven his best friend so mercilessly, and not even realized it.

He felt the bed shift as Arthur sat next to him, felt him reach out and take Lovino's hand in his. Fuck it, he didn't care anymore what Manuel or anybody else thought. They were so lucky to have found each other, and they were happy being together, and the hell with all those other bastards. He leaned against him, crying, and Arthur wrapped an arm around him.

He couldn't believe that his friend had spent so much time – made such a sacrifice – just to keep his friendship, though. Lovino knew _he_ would never have done something like that. "Is – is that why you – you screw around with me?" he eventually whispered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Just to make me happy?" He was afraid to meet Arthur's eyes, afraid to hear the answer. Christ, he felt like the lowest, most selfish –

Arthur sighed and squeezed him. "It was. When we first talked about it. I was so afraid of losing you that I decided to try it, and I wanted to make you feel good, too. But then – you – er, well, now I do it because I like being so close to you. Sharing that intimate time." Now Lovino could hear the amusement in his friend's voice, and he raised his tear-streaked face to Arthur's grinning one. The blond brushed away the tears with his thumb, and smoothed the hair away from Lovino's eyes.

But the brunet couldn't quite stop crying yet. He pressed his forehead against Arthur's shoulder and tried to snuggle even closer. "Why – why do you care for me so much?" he whispered. Oh, it felt so right in Arthur's arms. It always had. And he didn't give a damn about the fucking camera, not right now.

"Are you kidding?" When Lovino shook his head _no_, Arthur hugged him tighter. "The world was beating me down so badly that I tried to escape in the only stupid way I could think of. But you helped me. You didn't know me, you had no reason to reach out, but you did, Lovino. You reached out to me in the infirmary and you kept me safe and focused every day after that. Every single day, I felt your concern and support. Even in the summer, when I couldn't see you, I knew you were there for me. Even if something had kept one of us from returning to school, and we never saw each other again? I knew you'd still hold me kindly in your thoughts. I had a _friend! _And – and I'm stronger now, I know it, and that's all thanks to you, don't you understand? Everything I am, is thanks to you. Of course I care for you. How could I not?"

The Italian started crying again, very quietly. So much trust; he wasn't worth it! He was just a surly fucker from a broken home, weak and ugly – and here he remembered that Arthur thought he was beautiful, and cried some more.

Somehow seeming to understand, Arthur held him for a long time, just supporting him, not kissing, not talking, while Lovino processed all these thoughts. While he settled.

It was a long while later when he finally felt in control of himself. "I don't know what to say," he murmured, wiping his eyes again. "I've always been so selfish."

"Not always," Arthur smiled. He shifted them so they were both sitting with their backs against the wall, feet up on the bed.

"Will you forgive me? I – I don't want to lose you, either." When these whispered words came out of Lovino's mouth, he realized how true they were. He'd never let himself think too far into the future, and now he understood that he hadn't wanted to think about a time when he and Arthur might be apart for good. He blurted out, "Th-that's the real reason I – uh," he nodded towards the camera, "I couldn't stand the idea of being away from you, not knowing – not knowing – " Lovino rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.

Arthur looked at him in surprise, his smile growing. "Of course I forgive you. I'll stay with you as long as you let me." He blushed and focused on his knees, lowering his voice. "I know I can handle anything, as long as we're together. I – I love you, Lovino."

L-love? His tearful eyes stretched wide. Someone _loved_ him? _Arthur_ loved him! He sat stunned, his mouth an _O_, thinking over the entire time he'd known his friend. Was that – _is_ that – love? Wanting to be with someone, worrying about him, missing him? Helping and supporting him? Freaking out when Lovino knew he'd done something dumb? Oh, yes. He understood now. He had loved Arthur for a long, long time, and had not understood before, but now he did. He reached a hand up and gently swiped Arthur's messy bangs away from his face, staring into those luminous green eyes with wonder.

And Arthur had loved him for just as long, he saw that now too. Maybe even longer. Lovino drew deep breaths and smiled. "Oh, Arthur. Always. _Always. _I – I don't know what I'd do without you. I – I love you, too," he whispered, and pulled him closer. He felt the strong hand on his back, rubbing him, strengthening him. His heart felt so full right now, and his tears had miraculously stopped.

Arthur surreptitiously gave his hair a tiny kiss, but didn't make any conversational demands for a while. Lovino was grateful for that.

…

"What should we do?" he murmured in Arthur's ear, a little later. "About Gilbert and Mathias?" They stayed against the wall, still close, and Lovino held his friend's hand tightly. He felt like he would never let go.

"What do you mean? I'm not sure there's anything we _can_ do."

"No, I mean, how to behave about them. Someone's bound to ask us where they are."

"I don't know! It's the weekend, so, nobody's really going to keep tabs on them. We probably don't have to worry until classes on Monday."

"Unless some jackass like Cuba wants to start an orfball game. You know everybody always wants the bastard on their team."

"Yeah, but they're not likely to come ask us about that. If anybody asks, just shrug; don't say anything."

"You asked Oxenstierna what he was doing, didn't you? I wasn't really paying attention."

"Yeah, but he said he couldn't tell me, and told us to leave. Do you think you can ask him tomorrow? Or at your next work duty, whatever?"

"I guess. Not sure he'd tell me."

"But it almost seems like he _would_ have sent all four of us, if the big pod hadn't been out of commission. I wonder if he knows something, or someone."

In a quiet, quiet voice, Lovino now recounted everything Oxenstierna had ever told him – about his lost Tino, about watching over students in the school, even how the man had once said he was relieved that Lovino was no longer rooming with Antonio.

"It definitely seems like he's involved in something. Not just maintenance."

"Well, I'll see what I can find out on Tuesday at work duty. It might be weird or risky for me to go talk to him specially."

"Okay. But in the meantime we really have to think of something to say, if anyone else asks about them."

"We can think of that later. Uh – but – uh – he said something right before the pod left. 'Thanks for what you did,' or something? What was he talking about?"

Arthur looked at him in surprise. "You didn't know? I think Mathias is the one who killed Braginsky. I guess Oxenstierna was just as happy to see the bastard dead as the rest of us were."

"_What?_ How do you know that? He told you?" Dammit, were they all sneaking around behind his back, not letting him in on shit?

"No! It was easy enough to guess, yeah? Braginsky died by a Viking method, and Mathias is Danish. Besides, he's about the only person there who could have overpowered the fat old bastard. Maybe Oxenstierna could have, but I bet he wouldn't have done that. Or if he would have, it would have been a long time ago."

"Huh. I never knew Mathias was Danish." He'd bet Arthur was right, and Mathias had done it. He wondered why, and made up his mind to ask him, if they were ever safe together again and had time for shit like that. And to thank him wholeheartedly. Lovino was very glad that Mathias was his friend now. He shivered a little with remembered fear. "F-forget that," he said, to get his mind off it. "Tell me more about J-175. I want to figure out what Antonio might have done once you pounded the shit out of him. And thanks for that."

"He's the most brainless git at this entire school. Doesn't he know I'm just going to keep beating him up?" Arthur grinned and leaned closer to whisper, "Looks like I'm your new bodyguard now."

"I don't mind. But don't worry about that. Tell me about J."

Arthur explained how the combination of chemicals in that drug worked to slow the brain's processes. "It just makes your thoughts harder to flow? I guess that's how to explain it. You can't think as fast."

"Okay. Well, he's no brainiac anyway, so I think we're all right. If he asks, just say we were carrying stuff back from the loading dock, or something. Supplies."

"Sure. Er – can we please stop the 'business' now? It'd be much harder to do with Gilbert gone, for one thing."

"Yes, of course. In fact this whole thing gives us the perfect opportunity. If I say that I don't know where my supplier is, they'll all think it was either him or Mathias, and since they're obviously not around, they won't expect me to miraculously start producing drugs again." He hugged Arthur. "I really am sorry. Sorry that I was such a selfish dick about the whole thing."

"Eh, it's fine. I'm – I'm glad we can talk openly with each other now."

Lovino gasped as something occurred to him. "Y-you know what, though?" He leaned close. "Gilbert is the only one who knows where the money is. I have a couple grand in my duffel, but not much. So, until we can meet up with him again, we're shit out of luck, cash-wise."

Arthur considered this a moment and then shrugged. "Well, we don't really need it. If we're not buying supplies."

"Yeah, but shit. What if something goes wrong, and we never catch up with them? We'll have to get _jobs._"

He said this with such distaste that Arthur started laughing. "Welcome to the real world, git. Anyway, we can go back to Earth and do landscaping jobs, like I had last summer. That was very fun work, quite peaceful when it wasn't raining. I bet it would be even more fun if we worked together." He raised his eyebrows and smiled, and Lovino nodded.

"Mm. All right. I can do that, if – if you'll help me. I don't know anything about plants and shit."

"Of course I'll help you. Don't be stupid." Arthur hugged him. "I'll always help you when you need it."

Lovino, enjoying the warmth of Arthur's body next to his, now smiled a little wickedly. "Maybe we should just stay in our room all weekend, and…_help each other_." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Help each other get off, you mean? Dirty-minded boy." Arthur pinched his cheek, laughing again.

"Ow. Dammit."

"Tell me you didn't deserve that."

"I deserved it," he grinned. This was so comfortable, so fun, relaxing and talking to Arthur and not worrying about who would see them or whether he'd say something stupid. Yeah, the camera could see them, but he didn't care, and they were still being circumspect, just resting together and holding each other. He wanted to say all kinds of things, but didn't quite know where to start.

Then Arthur rubbed the spot on Lovino's cheek where he'd pinched it, and murmured, "My beautiful Italian boy…"

Ah. Lovino stroked Arthur's cool, strong fingers. "Someday we're going to be in a safe place together, alone, and I'm going to take my sweet time and teach you Italian."

"What? What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Whenever we're – together, you know? I always want to say things to you. Nice things. But I only know the Italian words, not the English ones. So I'm going to teach you Italian, so that when we play, I can tell you all those – those r-romantic things, and you'll understand what I mean." He blushed again and covered his face with one hand. "Dammit."

"I'll be happy to learn, for that," Arthur laughed, pulling his hand away and smiling at him. "Or I can just teach you the English words." He blushed a little and so did Lovino.

"How about a little of both?" When he'd said this, he finally drew Arthur to him for a quick and happy kiss.

"That works, too."

Lovino had one last thing to ask before bed. "May I – may I stay with you tonight? Just to hold you, and sleep? I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Arthur's eyes flicked to the security camera, but then he smiled. "Yes, please. I've always wanted to do that, too."

…

("'Just to sleep,' my arse.")


	15. Taking It on Trust

**Taking It on Trust.**

Inside the pod Gilbert leaned forward. "Don't worry." He tried to work out where they were going, but didn't recognize the coordinates; before he could take action, the pod launched, and he was flung back in the seat momentarily. "Shit."

In about two minutes the pod had settled into its trajectory and the albino leaned forward again. "Are you all right?" he asked his friend.

"Well, what is it they say?" Mathias, he could tell, was trying to be lighthearted. "The die is cast? If that guy wasn't on the level, we're dead. Both of us. All four of us."

Gilbert reached out and took his hand. "Better dead and together, and free, than sitting around waiting for them to terminate you." He tilted his head to the side, considering. "Now…I want to work out what he was talking about. Don't tell me." He drummed his fingers on the armrest. "Aha, I know it! Because you killed Braginsky, didn't you?"

"How the hell did you figure that out so quickly?" Mathias looked a little frightened.

"Not quickly. Before we asked you to be Lovino's bodyguard, I looked you up. And I saw you were Danish. And that's where Vikings are from. We had already found out that Braginsky was killed with the blood eagle, so…I kind of thought it was you, though it took me a while to make the connection. I'm glad you did it. He was a thorough bastard." He reached out and patted his friend's arm.

"And you still wanted to stay friends? Wow." Mathias' grin was now blinding. Gilbert really liked his smile.

"Yes, I did. It wasn't like you'd been going around killing people the whole time, you know. Though I never told Lovino or Arthur about it, so, they probably haven't figured it out yet. Why did you do it?" He turned his attention to the instrument panel.

"He – he was abusing one of Vladimir's friends," Mathias said weakly.

Eyes still on the panels, Gilbert nodded. "Oh, I know. That fat bastard whipped me all the time."

Mathias cleared his throat. "N-no, Gilbert. He was _abusing_ him!"

This caught the albino's full attention. "_Oh._ You mean he, he – " Ugh. That's right. Adnan had alluded to that.

"Yeah. And I watched him, and I got the feeling he did this to a lot of the students. From the way he looked at them, or the way they cowered around him." He considered his friend. "Remember when you took me to meet Arthur and Lovino the first time? We went to town, and sat around talking?"

Gilbert nodded.

"I was really happy when I found out Arthur was the drug inventor. Remember?" He didn't wait for Gilbert's confirming nod this time. "Vladimir heard about those drugs, and he bought some for me, so that I could drug Braginsky before I killed him. He was a powerful bastard. I don't think I could have immobilized him without the drugs in his system."

Gilbert was silent, thinking. "Well, I don't think anyone mourned him. You did a good thing. Was Vladimir's friend thankful?"

"He doesn't know. Or at least I don't think he does. I never told Vlad why I wanted the drugs, though he may have guessed. It took me a while to work up my nerve to do the deed. "

The albino squeezed his hand. "I'm proud of you."

Mathias laughed. "I'm telling you, I'm _really_ happy we met each other. All of us. I thought anyone who found out would be horrified, and want to kill me. You guys are awesome."

"I know," Gilbert said absently. "I'm damn surprised Lovino told me to go with you, though. All he ever talks about is escape." He turned his attention back to the instrument panel. "Now hold on while I try to figure out where this is going, okay?" He let go and leaned forward to examine the dials.

"Sure, but…why?"

"Okay, I can see the coordinates, but I have no idea where we're going. I can't even tell which direction. I'm a computer genius, not a navigator! What if the bastard is sending us back to Earth, to be arrested?" He turned panicking crimson eyes to his friend.

"Can't do anything about it now. Just sit back. Talk to me. Tell me about your dreams for the future."

"What? I can't do that. I have to figure out how to change the coordinates to take us to Triton. I memorized the settings for the big pod, which is older than this, and a different system. I don't understand this one."

"Gilbert, you can't change the coordinates!"

Astonished, the albino leaned back in his seat. "Why the hell not? I don't want to get captured or arrested, and I don't want anything bad happening to you, either! Once we get to Triton we'll be safe."

"Yeah. _We'll_ be safe. What about Lovino and Arthur? Oxenstierna's the only one who can set them free. You know he'll be watching them now. If, and I do mean if, he's on our side, he'll probably send them to the same place he's sending us. But if you've taken us to Triton, then they – they'll be all alone, wherever they end up, and we don't know what will happen to them. You can't change the coordinates, Gilbert, and if you try it, I'll try to stop you." Mathias looked damn fierce right now. "We have to be there to help our friends, if we can."

But he didn't really need to be so threatening. "Oh. I – I hadn't thought of it that way. You're awesomely right. We're all in this together. I just hope Oxen-Oxenstorno? –"

"Oxen_stierna _–"

" – knows what he's doing. _Scheisse!_" He punched the armrest. "And fucking pods don't have voice communications, either. So we can't talk to them."

"We couldn't do that anyway. Somebody might intercept the signal. All we can really do is wait until we land, and go from there."

"Right again, my friend." Gilbert sighed.

"I really would like to hear about your plans for the future."

"What if we're in trouble when we land? All our plans will be in the toilet."

"Stop being so suspicious." Mathias said this firmly.

Gilbert began laughing so hard that it made him cry. He broke down into body-wracking sobs, covering his face with his hands, shaking in the seat. "Oh, Mathias, what the hell is happening to us?"

The blond reached out a hand and rested it on his friend's shoulder. "Why are you crying?" But for another minute the albino could not respond.

"I'm an orphan. You knew that?" Gilbert wiped his eyes with the hem of his shirt, trying to compose himself. "Never really had a family. Came to Jones, found the whole place was full of shitheads and fuckwits, and I felt like I was being dragged down into the dirt with them all.

"And then Lovino helped me with something, and I was a total dick about it. But he and Arthur needed my help, and – and they didn't just come to me with some cold business proposition. They came to me with their hands outstretched in friendship, Mathias. I'd never done anything to warrant that. But they did it. I never had a family, but now I do. I have you, and Arthur, and Lovino, but…we don't know what's happening to us, and we won't know what's happening with them, and I'm scared, and I don't want to lose all of you after I just barely found you." He started sobbing again, hiding his face. Damn it all. Now Mathias would think he was some pansy-ass –

He felt the hand squeezing his shoulder again. "Gilbert. It's like you said. Better together, no matter what. I'll stick with you until the end, whatever that is. I'm really hoping that Mr. Oxenstierna is trying to help us – though I don't know why he would – and that we'll reach a safe place together. And – and if he _is_ helping, then, well, maybe he'll be able to send Arthur and Lovino along soon. When he has a pod ready. So I think we need to be strong, so that we can be alert when we land, and work out what to do next. Do you think you can be strong?"

But Gilbert's tears had stopped while he listened to this, and he understood that even if they were in danger, Mathias would stand by him. And he already knew he would do the same for his friend. "Yes," he said, trying to grin. "I can awesomely be strong. Watch me."

Mathias chuckled a little. "I knew you could do it. I have faith in – "

The instruments began beeping. "Shit, we're slowing down already, aren't we?" The descent was unmistakable, as the gauges lit up with warnings in English and Esperanto.

Gilbert gripped Mathias' hand tightly. All his anxiety about Mr. Oxenstierna came flooding back. What if they were in danger? What if he'd sent them back to Earth? Surely the pod would be intercepted, and they –

But no, he reminded himself. As long as they were together, they could handle anything. He took a deep breath as they felt the pod touch down. "J-just in case," he said nervously, "you know, I – uh – we –"

Mathias squeezed his hand.

The pod door retracted. They unclipped their restraining webs and joined hands again, picking up their bags before stepping slowly down into an unfamiliar docking zone that looked like every other docking zone Gilbert had ever seen. No clue there. It was huge, but sparsely populated, just a few pods here and there. What was this place?

The pod door closed behind them. He met Mathias' eyes, and they turned towards the main dock door in trepidation. A team of men in dark clothing hustled past them towards the pod, but someone else was headed right towards them. A younger, blond man. Gilbert, not normally a religious man, closed his eyes and prayed, squeezing his friend's hand.

"Mr. Kohler?" a lilting voice said. Gilbert's eyes flew open again. "Mr. Beilschmidt? We've been expecting you. Please be welcome here." The newcomer held a hand out to Mathias, who, bemused, shook it. The man turned to smile at Gilbert. "My name is Tino Oxenstierna. Welcome to Persephone."

…

_If this were a series of books this would be the ending of Volume 1. But of course the story is going to continue, and it's from here on out that I hope to make it more science fiction and less hurt/comfort. I'll change the genres with the next update. And now lots of new characters will begin to appear._


	16. Brave New World

**Brave New World.**

"Per-Per-Persephone?" Gilbert breathed in admiration, at the same time that Mathias repeated "Oxenstierna?"

Tino laughed. "Come along. I'll answer all your questions – as long as you answer some for us as well."

The two escapees followed him out of the docking bay. Gilbert took one look at the pod over his shoulder and saw it being prepared for launch. He supposed they had to get it back to Jones before anyone noticed it was missing, and he wondered what would happen to the guy piloting it. Maybe he'd come back in the big pod with Lovino and Arthur?

But the worries about his friends were pushed aside by the realization that he was on _Persephone!_ He couldn't wait to see Arthur's face when they got here. 'Never-Never Land!' He snorted out loud, and Mathias threw him a funny look, but he didn't care. He kept holding Mathias' hand, and the two of them gawked at their surroundings like a couple of kids at a fair, while this Tino led them down a maze of narrow metal corridors, squeezing past other people on the way.

"What is Persephone?" Mathias whispered to him, shifting the bag on his shoulder.

But Tino overheard and chuckled. "Don't worry! _All_ your questions will be answered. We'll talk – about Persephone, about Jones – until you're completely satisfied." He gestured them into a large room like the refectory, with people laughing and talking at many of the dining tables. Gilbert scanned the room eagerly.

Far off in the corner, he spotted Von Bock (Von Bock! _Whereabouts unknown!_) speaking to a young dark-haired woman in a black trench coat and beret. She was busy packing camera equipment into a padded bag on the table and kept stopping to adjust her glasses.

The Dane, who stood a head higher than everyone else in the room, must have caught Von Bock's eye; the ex-student interrupted himself to smile and wave at both of the newcomers. The young woman smiled briefly as well, before grabbing the packed bag and scurrying out of the far door.

"We'll go into my office, where it's quieter, but do you want anything to eat or drink?" Tino stopped a buxom young woman with short blond hair and took two handwritten papers from her hands. She smiled shyly at the newcomers and headed back to the kitchens.

"I'm starving," Mathias admitted. "Too nervous to eat today."

"I can understand that!" Tino laughed. "Come. It's right down the hall." He led them into a roomy office and gestured to the chairs.

By this point both Gilbert and Mathias were overwhelmed, and simply sat. Tino handed them each one of the sheets of paper, which turned out to be menus. "Choose what you wish," he told them. "We get a lot of good things to eat here."

Gilbert felt his mouth watering as he looked at the menu: shrimp scampi, asparagus – "Fresh asparagus?"

"Frozen, but we have no way to grow vegetables here," Tino laughed. "Do you like asparagus?"

"I've never had it, but I will today. Asparagus, and…uh…the steak…is it real steak, or bioengineered?"

"Unfortunately we have only the bioengineered steak right now. There are a lot of influential sympathizers back on Earth who send us good things, but real steak is always the first to go." Tino shrugged an apology. "The pork is real, and the –"

"_Salmon?_" Mathias breathed, as if in prayer. "Real salmon?"

"Real salmon."

"I'm having real salmon." He set the paper on the desk. "Real salmon and some beer."

"Beer!" Gilbert yelled. "Wow. Can I have some beer?"

Tino laughed. "You can have a beer. But I don't want you getting lightheaded until we're done talking."

"That's fine with me. I've never actually had beer before."

Mathias punched him fondly in the arm. "Better give him just half a glass."

"Stop that. I'll have some roast pork, the asparagus, and a whole awesome beer."

Tino grinned and moved to the door, waving at someone and then placing an order. "Now, while we wait – what are your most pressing questions?"

Before Gilbert could speak Mathias did. "Oxenstierna? You – and the man at school –?"

"We're married," Tino told them simply; both the newcomers smiled at the frank admission. "We've gathered a very small team to work together to save young people from the Government, to aid the Resistance."

"You saved Von Bock, right? I saw him out there. 'Whereabouts unknown,' kesesese!"

At this, Tino turned a confused face to the albino. "'Whereabouts unknown'? What do you mean by that?"

"Uh. That's what the school databases said. Mathias and I were trying to find out what happens to the condemned at school."

Tino's smile dawned again, and he stood up to reach across the desk and shake Gilbert's hand. "I really am glad to meet you. We've been trying to get into those databases for ten years and couldn't. Really, welcome! You could be so much help to us now."

Gilbert didn't want to offend his host – not while their footing was yet so uncertain – but inwardly he scoffed. Of course they hadn't been able to get into the databases. Even Von Bock, as clever with computers as he was, was no match for Gilbert. He sat back and listened as Tino explained things to them both.

…

"How do you survive? Where do you get food, and supplies?" Mathias wondered later, as they ate their meals in the office. Tino had already enlightened them about Persephone – a derelict space ship constantly on the move, not a space station as Gilbert had heard, which Tino and his fledgling band of sympathizers had salvaged and renovated piecemeal about ten years ago. Little by little, he and his husband Berwald had put out feelers and located not only other people unjustly condemned as Tino had been, but people against the harsh policies of the Government, who wanted to do something about it.

"The Resistance is very well-supplied," Tino laughed. "It seems the more that time passes, the more angry people are getting about the Government's ways. We're a small pocket out here, helping to rescue young people that the Government deems expendable. But there are larger, stronger organizations on Earth which are actively working to bring the Government down, and they take good care of us. They understand the work we do."

"Expendable?" Gilbert could certainly see that Mathias might have been considered so; after all, he'd been convicted of murder (no matter how unjust and stupid that ruling had actually been). But he himself? Von Bock? Why were people like the two of them considered _expendable_?

Tino explained. "Boys of your age may not quite understand just how desperate the population problem on Earth is. For many years the Government has been offering cash bonuses to people to move offworld, or to companies who choose to open facilities offworld, because their employees will need to move there to work. As part of this plan, all condemned criminals – no matter how wrong the conviction was – are sent offworld; many times people are condemned simply to shuttle them off to a remote location. Those with no family, like you, are often sent away as well, sometimes on exceedingly flimsy pretexts. Facilities such as Jones have traditionally used their distance from Earth to, well, to abuse this. Many of the criminals sent there have been executed, without the administration fearing reprisals, because they know the Government doesn't want the burden of these people returning to Earth."

"Wait. You mean, everyone who goes to Jones is supposed to – to _die?_"

"Technically they are simply supposed to be dissuaded from returning to Earth, but apparently Braginsky found it easier to terminate people than follow the party line. Sadik, the new principal, is not a Government employee, though." Tino grinned and arched his delicate eyebrows. "He's one of us."

Gilbert heard Mathias draw a sharp breath but he was on an entirely different thought path already. "What about Lovino? Or Arthur? They're not orphans _or_ criminals. They both said their fathers had chosen to send them there, like a regular school."

Tino cleared his throat. "Ah. Well. I'm sorry to have to tell you about this, too. The Government also offers bonuses to parents who are – are willing to exile their children from Earth. The thinking being that they won't come back and contribute to the overpopulation problem."

"_What?_" Gilbert yelled. Yes, they were getting answers to all their questions, but this was insane. "They took money for their children? That can't be right." That _couldn't_ be right!

"It is a Government policy, though," Tino corrected quietly. "Whether or not that's what your friends are doing at Jones, I can't say. But it is extremely unlikely that they'd be permitted to return to Earth."

"Not so!" Gilbert was very agitated and needed to prove his point; he rose half out of the chair and sank back down again. "Both of them went home last summer. I got sat-mails from Lovino while he was at his house!" He felt frantic. They had to make sure Arthur and Lovino got away. He rose from the chair again.

"Please sit, Mr. Beilschmidt. I must stress that I don't know why your friends are there."

"That's crazy. Nobody should have a fate determined by the government." This from Mathias, who had been surprisingly silent for a while. Maybe the mention of Braginsky's murder had unnerved him. Gilbert wondered whether Tino knew who'd killed the bastard. Oxenstierna knew, so probably Tino did too, though he hadn't acted like it.

"That's why the Resistance works to get boys away from Jones, to get young people away from _any_ offworld institution. So they can make their own decisions. Move on, if they want, or join the Resistance themselves."

Gilbert nodded, though he was still very, very upset. "You're building an army of adherents from the people you save."

"We saw in a file that – that Zwingli was terminated, and some other guy, too; I didn't recognize the name. But Von Bock was the only other one on the list. I know he's here – we saw him just now – but we never really noticed anyone else vanishing. If – if Braginsky" – Mathias spat the name – "was killing them, or having them killed, why weren't there more names in the database? Or why didn't we notice them missing?"

"As I told Mr. Beilschmidt, we have been unable to crack the school's codes. I really don't know." He shuffled some things around on his desk. "Berwald does what he can, trying to befriend the students so that they trust him enough to let him send them here, but it's difficult for a man in his position. He can't talk much about what we do, if at all, and so students are not inclined to trust him." He looked perturbed.

"Don't you ever see him? That must be hard," Gilbert realized.

"Once a year he's able to take two weeks' vacation, and we meet somewhere that won't endanger me. I've still got the proverbial price on my head," Tino shrugged. "I'd give anything to have him here with me, but we both understand there are jobs to be done for the greater good. Maybe someday."

"What jobs?" Mathias frowned. "Do you mean keeping Persephone afloat?"

"That, and Resistance work. Our agents travel to Earth frequently, to touch base with our contacts there, to gather new information or to seed powerful organizations with freedom fighters. We're trying to undermine the government, throw it over, whatever we have to do to scrap this current regime and try a fresh start. Humanity's likely to founder, under this sort of a yoke."

"It all sounds very dashing and spy-like. I'd love to do work like that," Gilbert admitted.

"And you can! It sounds like you're quite the expert with computers. Let's talk more about that later. Are the two of you tired? Someone has prepared a room for you to share. You can rest as long as you like; anyone here will guide you back to my office, or the lunchroom, when you're ready to continue speaking."

Mathias stretched in his chair. "I'd like to sleep. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Come along then. Mr. Beilschmidt?"

"Yeah, I could use some sleep too. But please just call me Gilbert. I hate being called Beilschmidt."

"Just as you like, Gilbert. May I call you Mathias?" Tino asked the Dane.

"Sure."

"Come along, then. It's down a few levels, in the living areas." The three of them left the office, the two ex-students carrying Gilbert's bags of technology with them.

…

Tino left them in a room about the size of a dorm room, showing them where the tiny washroom was. When he'd left, both of them collapsed on the large lower bunk. "This is nuts," Mathias said with a short bark of laughter, and Gilbert nodded in agreement. "I just wonder how to make sure Lovino and Arthur can get away before any weird terminations."

"Hey, they might even be here now," Gilbert realized. "I think we've been here for a longer time than the pod journey took. So maybe –"

"But wouldn't Tino have said something? I don't know. I'd think he would have reassured us. He knew _we_ were coming. I guess Oxenstierna sent him a sat-mail?"

"Guess so."

Mathias yawned hugely, making the albino realize just how exhausted he was as well. They must have been awake for over thirty hours by now.

"Do you want the top bunk or the bottom?" Gilbert asked, rising.

Mathias looked gravely into his eyes. "Will you please share with me? I – I know that's kind of weird, but you're the only anchor I've got here. I'm still a little worried. What if – if something funny's going on? You can sleep against the wall, and I'll take the outside, and then if anyone comes in and tries to hurt us, I'll be closer to the door and able to fight."

Gilbert was touched by almost every facet of this request; he was only upset with himself for failing to be suspicious again. He reached out and patted Mathias on the back. "Sure. In fact that's a really smart idea, and I don't mind at all." They smiled shyly at each other before beginning to prepare for sleep.

Eventually the two of them were cozily settled in on the wide lower bunk. "Thank you again, Gilbert, for everything," Mathias said sleepily.

Gilbert patted his hair this time, and yawned. "You too, my awesome friend."

And despite the fact that he'd never even shared a room with anyone else, Gilbert fell asleep quickly, relaxed by the proximity of his strong and protective friend.

…

_Mentally I'm basing Persephone on Red Dwarf, just so I have an image to go by, although that's much bigger. It has that sort of salvaged, utilitarian look to it, unlike (say) the Star Trek ships, which all look very polished and clean all the time._

_For LyndseyRyder12: Vash is Switzerland. And yes, Mart__í__n and Manuel are Argentina and Chile (fan-created)._

_So, at this point the only characters who are definitely out of the story are:_

_Swissy (terminated)_

_Russia (killed by Mathias)_

_Japan (terminated before the story started)_

_Egypt (terminated before the story started)_


	17. The Road Ahead

**The Road Ahead.**

Gilbert awoke quite refreshed, amused to find Mathias' arm around him. This made him wonder whether Mathias used to share a bed with Vladimir, but then he decided probably not. Mathias had said they weren't really friends. Hard to imagine people sleeping together when they weren't even friends.

Sleeping together, hah! He stifled a "kesesese."

The Dane was snoring loudly but he was very warm. It seemed they'd slept safely. Gilbert let his eyes scan the little room; he'd been too tired to do much about it last night, but he didn't want to awaken his friend. So he lay still and let his eyes and mind wander.

Lit at floor level by subtle embedded lights, the room was smallish. So right away that was one thing he wanted to ask Tino about, or whoever got delegated to take care of them. (He felt fairly certain that if Tino was in charge of running Persephone, he really wouldn't be able to spare the time to indoctrinate the two of them.) He meant to ask how big Persephone was, how old, how many people, and things like that. If this was to be their new home for the foreseeable future, Gilbert needed to get as much information as possible. This little room gave the impression that it was a small ship, but maybe it was a big one and the bulk of the space was devoted to operations? He'd ask how they'd come into possession of it, how they'd gotten in with the Resistance on Earth.

Gilbert had never heard of any Resistance. He wondered just how big the group was, on Earth. Maybe these people were deluding themselves, and they weren't really that well-connected or popular.

But no. They had good food. _Someone_ must be sympathizing. You couldn't scrounge that kind of stuff out of thin air.

Mathias shifted a little and Gilbert's eyes were drawn back to him. He really hoped they would be safe now. Well, Gilbert was not an optimist. But he could trust Tino for now, and then do a little sleuthing on his own. Maybe he could recruit Mathias to do a little detective work, too, just to find out more about this place.

He also wanted to find out who else from Jones was on this ship. Von Bock wasn't a problem, he knew. But what if they had plans to rescue Antonio, or Francis? Fuck, everybody on this ship would be in danger from their wandering hands. Maybe they should abandon them on Mars.

This time he couldn't repress a snort. Mathias immediately opened his eyes and smiled into Gilbert's. "We're all right?" he asked immediately.

"Seems so. I was just lying here thinking things over. Sorry I woke you."

Then the blond seemed to realize he was hugging his friend, and drew his arm back quickly. "Uh."

"Don't worry about it. You were really comfy."

Both boys began blushing; Mathias hastily rolled over and hopped out of bed. When his feet hit the floor, the room's main lights came on automatically. "Huh. That's cool. So, what'd Tino say we need to do today?"

"Well, first we need to find him, or someone he's going to hand us off to. I'm pretty sure he's too busy to babysit us all the time."

"True. And we should ask about Arthur and Lovino."

"Yes."

"All right. I'm going to wash up."

Gilbert nodded and rolled onto his back, staring at the bottom of the upper bunk, continuing to think.

…

"Are our friends here yet?" Gilbert asked eagerly. "Did your – your husband send them along?" Boy, did that sound weird to say to a guy.

Tino was very agitated and paced in his office. "We have a problem," he admitted through clenched teeth.

"A problem with Jones?" This didn't sound good. Mathias and Gilbert eyed each other nervously.

"Yes. Perhaps you can help, but please listen first." Tino explained that his undercover network for communicating with Berwald had failed. He had been trying, ever since their pod had docked, to contact his husband to notify him of their safe arrival, and hadn't been able to do so. Then they'd tried using an open network to send a plain vanilla sat-mail to Adnan, which had also failed.

"What about the guy in the pod?" Mathias asked. "You sent our pod back, right?"

"Yes. We sent it, and the pilot came back after making a round-trip journey. He couldn't communicate with the dock to gain entrance."

"Uh-oh," Gilbert said, somewhat unnecessarily.

"You said it," the Dane replied. "What does all that mean, actually?"

"I don't know!" Tino almost wailed. "It's never happened before. We have our best people trying to get through, but nothing is working."

"Let me at it. I can probably see something that they can't." Gilbert was quietly confident, not boastful at all; he had to help.

"Yes," Tino agreed. "Let me get Eduard to direct you. He knows most of the systems here, and since you know him, it will be easier for you." He walked out of his office.

"Eduard?" Mathias mouthed.

"Von Bock." Gilbert didn't have a problem with this, and it made more sense than putting them in the hands of a total stranger. He'd understand where they were coming from.

"Oh."

Tino returned with Von Bock in tow and explained the situation. "Let Gilbert do whatever he needs to do," he counseled.

Eduard nodded. "Let's eat and then I can show you to the command post." The three of them left Tino pacing his office again, scowling at the floor.

They headed back to the large lunchroom and filled plates from a big assortment of cold breakfast items sitting out; a few other people drifted in and got food before leaving. Gilbert had wanted to get started working right away – he was very worried – but Mathias pointed out that they hadn't had much to eat except the lunch yesterday, and Gilbert would need his strength, to focus. So he'd agreed.

Eduard gestured to the large side tables. "The kitchen doesn't really open until noon, so if you're a big breakfast eater, you should stock up on this."

"I'm just amazed this place is so organized and advanced. When you read about freedom fighters throughout history, they're always downtrodden, tiny groups, scrounging for supplies and things." Gilbert looked around the room as he sipped his coffee. Coffee! He felt so grown-up. Beer yesterday, coffee today – things were looking up. Now if only he could sort out the communications problem for them.

"Maybe the times were different, then; I don't know." Von Bock's voice was neutral. "But as Tino told you, there is a big movement on Earth to do away with this regime. It's been growing for about fifteen years. So they're entrenched, and as a result, we are too."

"Fifteen years, though? And they haven't thrown over the Government yet? Sounds entrenched, all right, but it doesn't sound very effective."

Eduard cleared his throat. "The existing governing body has been in place for a long time. Oh, officials come and go, but usually they only 'go' because they died. A role in the Government is a role for life. There are several different pockets of resistance. Some are working actively to obtain the roles vacated by incumbents, and change the system from within. Some are working to terminate incumbents early, to create more empty slots. A lot of our female agents are willing to make the effort to – uh – change the minds of men in the Government, you know? That sort of thing." He flushed a deep red after that comment and fiddled with his glasses. "But we don't have anywhere near a majority in office yet. It's too risky to take direct action."

"How many of your people – _our_ people," Gilbert corrected himself, "are in the Government now? For that matter, how many people, slots, whatever, are actually _in_ the Government? We don't learn shit like that in school." Whoops. He hoped Eduard wouldn't mind his foul mouth, and then remembered that he too was from Jones, where bad language was the order of the day.

And in fact Eduard grinned at him. "I know. According to our latest reports, of the thousand slots, we have about a hundred and seventy."

"Damn. That's not much." Mathias, who had finished eating his pastries, finally joined the conversation.

"Nearly twenty percent. That's better than none," Eduard pointed out somewhat snappishly.

"Hey, this – this communications problem," Gilbert realized. "Is it only with the school? Do you ever communicate with people in the town?"

Eduard's eyes widened. "I hadn't even thought of that. I don't know of anyone there that we talk to, but some of the boys in the command center would know that. I'm guessing it didn't occur to Tino or he would have mentioned it."

Gilbert polished off his rye toast. "Well, come on. Take me to this command post. I have to find out about Arthur and Lovino. I'm getting more and more worried the longer we sit here."

"Oh! I didn't know that's who you were checking on." Eduard rose and the others joined him. "Come on. Bring your coffee if you like."

Gilbert topped up his coffee – Mathias chose not to – and they followed Eduard through increasingly-populated hallways before reaching the big command center.

"Whoa," Mathias said, apparently overwhelmed at the size of it, but Gilbert was appalled. At a glance he could tell these systems were out of date. The personal tech he'd brought with him would be better than these antiquated monsters! Though he realized a ten-year-old derelict spaceship probably wasn't going to have top-of-the-line shit, not unless they were very well connected indeed.

"Can someone go back to our room and get my equipment?" he asked Eduard. "I think it's probably going to be easier for me to work with my own gear than this stuff."

"I'd go," Mathias laughed, "except I can't remember how to get there."

"Let me find someone to take you." Eduard tapped a big blond guy on the shoulder. "Hey, Ludwig. Can you spare a minute?"

"Of course." The young man removed his headset and stood up.

Eduard introduced them. Ludwig was just as big and blond as Mathias, though Gilbert objectively felt that Mathias was better-looking. Hmm. Ludwig was a German name. Maybe once this was sorted out, Gilbert could talk to this guy about the Fatherland. Over a beer, kesesese!

"Please help Mathias find their room – it's level D, room 1205 – and bring back whatever he thinks is necessary," Eduard concluded.

"Bring it all," Gilbert said. "I don't know what I'll need yet. Let me poke around here."

"Done." Mathias and Ludwig left the command center.

Others in the room tried not to stare at Gilbert. He was used to that, though, with his striking looks. And he felt much better now that he would be getting his hands on his toys again, and doing something useful with them. "Tell me what's happening," he begged Eduard.

"Let's ask someone who's been here all morning." He looked around, and of all the room's occupants, only one seemed unfocused and approachable. "Feliciano? What's been happening?" Eduard asked, leading Gilbert over.

Huh. He was kind of cute. Reminded Gilbert of someone, but he couldn't tell who, until he spoke, with an Italian accent almost as strong as Lovino's. "Ve. Won't you introduce me first?" he asked, rising from his chair.

"Sorry." Eduard blushed and pushed his glasses up his nose before making the introductions.

"Nice to meet you," Gilbert offered, shaking hands; this kid was practically drooling over him. That was amusing to see. He wondered whether Feliciano had a girlfriend. Or even a boyfriend.

He almost got sidetracked, thinking about shipboard romance possibilities, before Feliciano started talking again. "Well, ve, as far as we can tell, all communications to Jones are being blocked. Nothing is coming out, ve, and we're not receiving confirmation that our transmissions are getting through."

The albino peered over the shoulder of some of the people, checking the screens, and shook his head. He wished Mathias and that Ludwig guy would hurry up. "How do you normally get the confirmation?"

Feliciano and Eduard began explaining to him, the Italian's speech peppered with this strange word 've.' He wondered what it meant. He'd never heard Lovino use it. As he listened, more and more of the operations became clear to him.

"Ask about the town," he whispered to Eduard while Feliciano spoke. Eduard interrupted to ask.

"Ve, I don't recall anyone ever speaking to townspeople. They might not be part of the cause." Feliciano tilted his head to the side, considering this, but ultimately shook his head no. "You'd have to ask Tino, I guess, or Norge."

"Who's Norge?"

"Second in command," Eduard told him. "Well, when they stop by we'll ask. Otherwise let's assume it's unsafe to try anyone in the town."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just wondering if it's just that one dome, or maybe even confined to Jones. It's probably not affecting every single development on Mars."

Gilbert didn't want to mention the money they had in the town's bank, but if he could get into the bank's systems, for example, then he could at least find out how limited the problem was. What worried him was that there might have been some kind of power failure. That would not only account for the lack of communications, but also the fact that the pod hadn't been able to dock. A dock door should open automatically when it sensed the approach of a craft.

And if there had been a power outage, everyone under that dome was already completely fucked and there was no one left to answer. They couldn't live more than a few minutes without the air converters. _Scheisse,_ he needed to make sure Lovino and Arthur would be all right! Where the hell were Mathias and the German guy?

But in just a few more seconds the two returned with the things Gilbert needed, and he cleared a space on the big floor to sit down and work. He'd get through to Jones, no question. He had to.

"Just one thing I want to clarify," he asked, meeting the eyes first of Eduard, then each of the other Persephone people now standing around. "The principal – Adnan – he's definitely safe? If I can get through to him, get some kind of confirmation or news, no matter how basic, it won't harm anything? Won't endanger us?"

"Sadik is quite safe to communicate with," Ludwig nodded.

"Someone needs to stay with me, to answer my questions."

"May I stay?" Mathias asked. "I won't be much help, though."

"I don't mind, my awesome friend." Gilbert smiled at him. "Is that all right?" He appealed to Eduard.

"Sure. All I was going to do today was give you a tour of the ship, but it makes more sense to do that for both of you together. I'll stay too, since I'm familiar with the systems."

"Good. I need to get back to work. Good luck." Ludwig nodded and walked back to his seat; Feliciano joined him after a quick smile.

"Kesesese! Stand back!" Gilbert cracked his knuckles and pulled his most powerful tablet from the bag.

…

_Veneziano and Germany aren't related to Romano and Prussia in this story. _

_Maybe 500 years from now people won't need glasses, but I'm keeping them in the story for character identification and personal quirks._


	18. Rats in a Trap

_Thanks for all these enthusiastic reviews! I'm really having a good time developing this story._

…

**Rats in a Trap.**

Monday morning Lovino and Arthur headed to the refectory for breakfast. They had indeed spent the whole weekend in their dorm room, living on tap water, meal pills, and love. Lovino had never felt so exuberant in his life. Of course, now that they were back in the real world, he felt just as irritable as usual.

This morning they'd agreed to stick together as much as possible, when out in public, to act as a check. Not wanting to accidentally blurt something out, each of them felt the other's presence would be a constant reminder to be on guard. They got juice and food and sat at a table.

Neither spoke as they ate, until Antonio walked into the room. "Fuck."

"Ignore him," Arthur said, turning his face to his plate.

But Lovino had caught the Spaniard's eye; Antonio froze, an expression of terror spreading over his face. "What the hell?" Lovino wondered.

Arthur glanced at him and then followed his gaze to Antonio, who had by now turned away. "What?"

"Don't know. Bastard looks really scared of something."

"Afraid I'll kick the shit out of him," Arthur laughed shortly, "and I will, too, if he tries anything."

"You were right, though. Ignore him. We really don't need to get into it with him."

"I know." They shared a quick smile and finished eating in silence.

When they got up to leave, Antonio was staring at them again, this time perplexed. "Sometimes I wish I knew what that idiotic bastard was thinking."

"'Lovino is so hot.'"

"_What?_"

"Hey, that's what I'd be thinking, if I were him." Arthur laughed. "In fact I'm thinking it anyway!"

"Cheh." Lovino laughed in relief and punched him. "Shut up, stupid. Go to class."

"Right. I'll see you after work duty. Be strong."

The brunet nodded and turned down a hallway to head towards math class.

…

Later, Martín came up to him in a hurry. "Che, where have you been, Vargas? I waited outside on Friday. I need some shit."

"Don't have any. Sold out." Lovino spoke very slowly, monitoring himself to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing.

"When will you get more?" the Argentinean hissed. "I need it! Manu needs it too."

"It's not addictive, bastard." He hoped Arthur knew that for certain. That's all they'd need, a bunch of addicted bastards chasing them around for nonexistent drugs!

"Oh, I know it's not, I know, but I really need it. Come on." Martín shook him by the shoulder.

Lovino jerked away angrily. "Listen, I can't sell you shit I don't have! Let me – let me see what I can find out, though," he waffled. At least that ought to get the frantic fucker off his back for now.

"Sure. Meet me after classes tonight at our usual place." Martín ruffled his hair and scampered off, now smiling.

"Dammit." Lovino fixed his hair and headed to physical education.

This would be the tough part of the day. Without Mathias here, he was not only vulnerable where the other students were concerned, but also, noticing the tall blond's absence, someone might start asking him questions. He resolved to keep his mouth completely shut during the entire period, and if anyone asked about the Dane, just to raise his eyebrows and shrug. He really hoped that would deter people.

Vladimir was in this class, though. He'd never thought about him much, but this was Mathias' roommate! How would he have reacted when Mathias never showed up last Friday? Lovino watched him carefully, and it seemed to him that once or twice Vladimir wanted to approach him and ask a question, but the fanged bastard could never seem to make up his mind. Ah, whatever. Lovino was just hoping that he didn't have to stumble through any fake explanation. He ran on, praying for solitude, and got it.

After this last class of his day he stepped into the hallway to find Manuel waiting. Dammit! Had Martín sent him along to beat him up? And Arthur was on his way to work duty, not able to bodyguard him. He snorted. If Manuel wanted a fight, Lovino would give him a fight, but he didn't really want to.

But no. "Principal wants to see you," the Chilean smirked.

Lovino's heart plummeted right into his shoes. _Fuck!_ Had they found out about the abortive escape? Was this about Mathias and Gilbert? He nodded at Manuel without speaking and turned to slowly – slowly – head towards Adnan's office.

Halfway there, trembling with fear and the need to compose himself, he remembered what Gilbert had said about his own meeting with Adnan. Just a generic meeting to touch base, to make sure all was well. Perhaps that's what this was all about. Just checking in with Lovino. Yes. That was probably it.

He drew deep breaths, trying to force himself to calm down, and by the time he reached Adnan's office he felt in control. He'd get through this meeting with a minimum of commentary and head back to the sanctuary of their room, hopefully avoiding Martín, Manuel, and any other fuckers on the way. He knocked at the door and heard Adnan inviting him in.

"Oh, shit," he blurted out, when he saw not only Arthur, but also Mr. Oxenstierna, in the office too. Arthur's face was pale and terrified, but both Oxenstierna and Adnan appeared calm.

"Please shut the door, Mr. Vargas."

Lovino shut the door and moved automatically to Arthur's side. When the blond grabbed his hand his reaction was to jerk away, but what the hell. They were in it together, for better or worse. He squeezed it in support and turned his own face to the principal. "Sir?"

Adnan rose from the desk chair and began to pace. "Boys, we have a big problem," he began, in a conversational tone.

Arthur and Lovino shot confused glances at each other.

"R'lax," Oxenstierna told them. "Y're not in trouble. Nor 'm I."

"But – but – "

"No, Mr. Vargas, you're not in trouble. We have a big problem that was precipitated by your attempted flight, though."

Lovino felt the pressure of Arthur's hand tighten, but it almost didn't register. Adnan was so calm! Braginsky, he knew, would already be beating them, if he'd found out of an escape attempt.

"Sadik, let th'm sit down. Th'y don't know anyth'ng about this." Oxenstierna took off his glasses and began to polish them with the hem of his shirt.

Adnan gestured wearily to the chairs before his desk. "Very well. Please sit." They sat; Lovino let his book bag slide to the floor.

"Berwald sent your friends off safely, but as you know we couldn't send you."

"Berwald?" Arthur interrupted, the first word he'd said so far.

"'S me," Oxenstierna offered with a little smile, replacing his glasses. "Sent 'm to Persephone."

Lovino choked out, "You're _joking._"

"Not joking, Mr. Vargas. Please stay calm and listen."

Lovino and Arthur listened in astonishment as Adnan and Oxenstierna told them things that they'd never suspected. Things that explained so much, about the maintenance man's assistance, the terminations, the new principal's attitude, Persephone. Lovino felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. Over the next hour, as the two men took turns speaking, Arthur's grip grew slacker until his hand dropped from Lovino's.

"And so the entire school seems to be on some sort of lockdown, quarantine, something like that. All we can guess is that someone from Jones must have notified the Government. It's too coincidental to be something random, and it's never happened before, as far as we know. We can't get supplies, we can't get pods, we can't get or send communications outside the dome. We have no idea whether your friends made it safely to Persephone or not – although Berwald assures me there's no reason they wouldn't have – and we can't find out. Jones is effectively cut off from the outside world."

"Can pods get out?" Arthur asked eagerly. "At least we could get away."

"Bastard, don't be so selfish," Lovino told him, seeing the problem right away. "Yeah, you and I could get away, and maybe these two, but this school doesn't keep a lot of spare pods."

"Oh. Yes. Forgive me." Arthur's gaze shifted to his lap; his face turned red, and he looked so damned embarrassed that Lovino squeezed his hand supportively.

Adnan cleared his throat. "Don't worry about it. Pods can't get out. And if they could, and we had enough pods, yes, we'd evacuate the whole school. But they can't and we don't."

"Th' real question is, who might h've notified the Government?"

Adnan spoke again. "There are three boys here with connections to the Government. Any of them might have sent a communication." He kept his eyes on Lovino as he spoke.

"Well? Who?" the brunet asked. Dammit, why was Adnan staring at him like that? He rubbed his face with his free hand.

"Antonio – "

"Aha," Arthur interrupted, but Oxenstierna motioned him to be silent.

" – Francis, and you."

"You? 'You' who?" Lovino demanded.

"You, Mr. Vargas! Don't play coy with us!" Adnan punched his desk.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he screeched, forgetting entirely that he was speaking to a staff member. He leaped out of the chair but Arthur grabbed his arm and yanked him back down, making a shushing noise. "Uh." Shit, he was dead, wasn't he? _Fuck!_ His goddamn big mouth! He raised a fist to his mouth, eyes terrified.

"Y'really don't know?" Oxenstierna asked.

Lovino dropped his hand from his mouth. "Know what? What the hell – excuse me, sirs. But wh-what are you talking about?" He forced himself to sound calm, though he was secretly grinding his teeth.

"Mr. Vargas, your father is in the Government. You didn't know this?"

"_What_? That's impossi– " But Lovino interrupted himself. Was it possible? His father had never spoken of his work. Never. All Lovino knew was that he went off to work each day, that he made a shit-ton of money, and that he was a cold-hearted bastard. "He is?" he asked now, much more subdued than previously. "What does he do there?"

"What do any of them do, except make life difficult for everyone else while fattening their own bank accounts? I have no idea what he does. You didn't know this?"

"He doesn't talk to me, except to discipline me," the Italian muttered, embarrassed. How the fuck could someone not know what their father did for a living? He felt like the world's biggest ass.

Arthur recaptured his hand and he relaxed just a little, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. At least he knew Arthur wouldn't think less of him.

Oxenstierna grinned. "'M pretty sure we c'n eliminate Vargas fr'm the list."

Adnan acknowledged this with a nod. "Then it was either Fernandez or Bonnefoy."

"F-Fernandez saw us heading to the dock," Arthur explained.

"What did you say to him?" Adnan seemed curious.

"Not much," Lovino laughed. "Arthur beat him unconscious." There was pride in his voice as he smiled at his friend.

"Aha. Th'bloody nose."

"Yes."

"That would explain it." Adnan began to pace. "Angered with you, he notified his Government father of his suspicions, rather than reporting it here."

"That's why he was giving us funny looks at breakfast, I bet," Lovino realized. "If he thought we escaped, it would have shocked him to see us calmly sitting there eating."

"Well, now that that's settled – as much as it can be – we still need to work out what to do. It's possible this lockdown will be lifted, but right now we can't even communicate with the Government to request it."

"Wh-what can we do?" Arthur asked them.

"There is nothing, really. We'll keep running classes as usual, but we'll have to pare back on the refectory's offerings, to make the food supplies last longer. Hopefully the lockdown won't last more than a day or two. If they send someone to investigate – and if it was because Fernandez saw you 'escaping' – it ought to be easy to prove that he was mistaken, and set things straight."

"B-but Gilbert, and Mathias," Lovino started. "They're not here. If someone finds out that _they_ escaped, won't it just make things worse?"

Oxenstierna cleared his throat. "Y'told me y'knew Kohler was to be terminated. Right?"

The two boys nodded.

"Th'n we c'n put it out that both of them were. 'N orphan like Beilschmidt wouldn't worry 'nyone, 'f they found him missing. That would h've been stand'rd procedure eventually, wh'n Braginsky was in charge."

Lovino felt so sick, discussing his friend's terminations so casually, even though he knew it was just a cover. But Arthur was nodding, and Adnan as well.

"S-so what do we do now?" Arthur asked quietly.

"The immediate thing is for the two of you to act normally. Do whatever you usually do in the evenings."

The blond cleared his throat. "I was supposed to be at work duty right now. Do I need to go? It's almost over."

Adnan considered this. "No; I'll let the kitchens know you were being 'disciplined.' Go back to your room for the rest of the evening; go to classes as normal tomorrow. Do not – _do not_ – breathe a word about this conversation, not even to each other. Berwald and I will work to do what we can."

"Is there anything Lovino and I can do?"

"Not just yet. If we think of something, we'll send for you."

"J'st go do wh't you do; try to act norm'l. When we have news we'll g't you back here. L'vino, come to w'rk duty as usual t'morrow. We c'n talk then. Understood?" Oxenstierna raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir." Lovino stood, dropping Arthur's hand, and Adnan smiled at them.

"Go now. Stay calm."

"Yes." Together Arthur and Lovino left the room.

…

Back in their room Arthur collapsed on the bed and squeezed his skull in his hands. "Argh."

Lovino sat next to him. "I know." He slipped an arm around his friend's waist. "Hang in there. It'll be better soon." He stroked the blond hair, under the pretext of Arthur's having a headache. "Would you like me to rub your head? Would that make it feel better?"

In tune with him, Arthur just nodded, keeping head in hands.

"Lie down," Lovino directed him. When he'd done so, the Italian leaned forward and placed his hands on the cool skin of Arthur's forehead, gently stroking it, smiling down at him. "Shit, we should have asked them to turn our camera off," he realized, whispering. "I can't stand this. My head is a mess. Worrying about our friends, about this damn lockdown, wanting to be close to you, homework, my fucking father, goddamn Antonio, goddamn Martín…"

"What about him? What did he do?"

Lovino explained about the Argentinean's request.

"Eh, don't worry. Remember what we said. Blame it on Gilbert. He wouldn't mind." Arthur reached up and took Lovino's hands in his, and they sat together like this for a little while.

"Nh. Homework," Lovino eventually said, shaking his head to focus.

"Spoilsport." But Arthur laughed and sat up. "Thanks for taking care of me. I feel better now."

"Me too, bastard. Come on." Together they moved to the desks to begin working.

…

When, later that night, Lovino wanted to write in his diary, he felt very stupid. This was the first time he'd ever needed to activate the voice lock while Arthur was in the room. He sat on the bed, holding the case and staring at it. Maybe he could go out in the hallway to activate it? Or maybe he could ask Arthur to leave the room for a minute. How _stupid._ He punched himself in the leg, trying to decide what to do.

"What's the matter? Are you all right?"

"Nh. Yeah." Oh, fuck it. Arthur didn't know Italian anyway. "I'm going to write."

"Fine. Is it all right with you if I sleep? I'm really beat. I didn't sleep much last night."

"Yeah, that's okay. I'm really tired too, but I want to get some stuff down on paper."

"Okay." The blond blew him a kiss and got ready for bed.

Lovino grinned, crawling under his covers and pulling them up over his head. _"__Il bastardo inglese è il mio migliore amico,_" he whispered into the diary lock.

It did not open. This time he mumbled a little more loudly, _"__Il bastardo inglese è il mio migliore amico."_

"What are you muttering about?"

"Dammit, nothing!"

"Something. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm all right; I'm just trying to get the stupid diary case open."

"Is the lock stuck?"

"Arthur, forget about it! Just go to sleep."

"How can I sleep with you over there cursing in Italian? What the hell's wrong?"

Lovino laughed. "I'm not cursing, you idiot. I'm trying to open the voice-activated lock."

"But it's broken?"

He stuck his head out from under the blanket. "I don't think so."

"Well, then?"

Argh. "I just don't want to say the passphrase out loud." Shit.

"You can trust me. You know I'd never try to read your diary."

"What? Oh, that's not it. I just – well, fuck it. _Il bastardo inglese è il mio migliore amico,_" he said clearly into the lock, which popped open with a click.

"Oh. It's not broken," Arthur pointed out with a slow smile.

"Don't be so stupid! I knew it wasn't broken!" Lovino pulled the covers over his head again. "Just let me write, okay?"

"Whatever you like! Sometimes I wish I understood what the bloody hell goes on in that brain of yours."

"Nothing. Forget it. Go to sleep."

"Right."

Under the covers, Lovino drew out the diary and flashlight. He uncapped the pen and tested the ink flow with some doodles; there was no sound from his roommate.

_Dammit. Why didn't I ever think about how stupid this situation would be? I'll have to change my passphrase._

Still no sound from Arthur. Shit. "Hey," he called out.

"Hey what?"

"Sorry. I'm just a little testy." He poked his head out from the blanket again and saw Arthur smirking at him.

"Whatever. It's not a problem. Just write what you want to write and let me sleep."

"Deal. Good night, Arthur."

"Good night, you adorable git."

_My fucking father's in the __Government__? How the hell could I not ever have known this?_ He spent some time nibbling on the pen, thinking about it. _Well, I never really cared. Not like he ever endeared himself to me with any stupid father-son chats._

_I wonder what it really means, though. Adnan said 'make life difficult and fatten his wallet.' I can see that the Government bastards make life difficult for people; Gilbert's exile here and Mathias' unfair conviction are proof of that. But what does he do to fatten his wallet? I know we're rich. Servants, fancy transport...I just don't get it._

_And I can't suddenly start asking him questions. For one thing, I can't get through to him, if this lockdown thing continues, but also, if I started getting curious the bastard would probably beat me, or take me away from here. _

He drew a thick black line on the page and wrote _VAFFANCULO! _ in big letters. It had just occurred to him that if either he or Arthur left Mars at this point – separately or together – they'd never see their friends again; even if they had the means to escape, they'd never find out how to get to Persephone without Oxenstierna nearby. Lovino tried to imagine just how much effort they'd have to put into befriending total strangers on the off chance they knew about the place. How fucking risky that would actually be. Dammit.

_No, there's absolutely no way I can talk to the bastard father about any of this. I have to make sure Arthur understands this, too. We __must__ stay here – near Oxenstierna – or we will never get to safety. I understand now that my original plan of heading to a lonely place might have been cool for a few weeks – maybe months – but it's too fucking impractical now. How would we get food? Without Gilbert to source things for us, we'd have nothing to plant (even assuming the place had good growing facilities) and we'd be totally fucked. The best bet at this point is to stay here, stay calm, wait for the goddamn lockdown to be lifted, and head to Persephone with Oxenstierna's blessing. Maybe Arthur and I can think of some way to help out to make it happen faster._

Lovino then spent some time thinking about rescuing the other students. Once, a long time ago, he'd thought about every damn bastard at the school, and wondered what they were here for. Knowing what he now knew, he'd bet most of them weren't here for any real reason. Probably nobody really deserved to be terminated, though he wouldn't lose sleep over Antonio and Francis. He snickered quietly.

Something Adnan had said this afternoon worried him. He'd been so panicky and confused, and a lot of those comments were just now beginning to trickle into his consciousness. _People sent to Jones aren't supposed to return to Earth. Does that mean me? Arthur? I can completely understand that rationale where all the convicted bastards are concerned, and even if there are people like Gilbert who were sent here with a 'warning' – but my bastard father, and Arthur's, apparently sent us here in good faith, choosing it just as a regular boarding school. My father might want me to be permanently out of his life, but that's pretty fucking brutal, to ship me off here and hope I never come back. I mean, he could have just __asked__ me. I might have gone off happily just to get away from him._

_But then there's Arthur's dad. Why would he send his only son here? Is it possible he (they) didn't know about this exile? I guess it can be considered exile. I need to ask Adnan about this, or maybe Oxenstierna tomorrow night at work duty. I'm more confused about this now than anything else that's happened in the last four days._

He stuck his head out from under the blanket, intending to ask Arthur what he thought, but the blond was asleep already. Lovino smiled at him and went back to the diary. _Got to get some real answers. I'm tired of being treated like a brainless little kid, and being kept in the dark. I'll see what I can find out tomorrow._

Lovino slipped the diary into the case and locked it again with a little smirk. How panicky he'd been about the passphrase. Arthur had had no idea what it meant. He'd keep it as is.

He shoved the diary case under his bed and went to wash up.

_..._

_Lovino's passphrase, "Il bastardo inglese è il mio migliore amico," means "the English bastard is my best friend." (Remember he set the passphrase last summer, before they were so close.)_

_Something he has failed to consider, though, is that Arthur's been studying Esperanto, and "__la angla __bastardo __estas mia __plej bona __amiko" is not all that different from the Italian!_


	19. Thinking Outside the Box

**Thinking Outside the Box.**

"Well?" Tino and his second-in-command, a poker-faced blond man introduced as Norge, stood before the seated Gilbert in the command post.

Poor Gilbert looked terrible. For three days he'd been working on this problem nearly nonstop. Mathias had stayed with him all through the days, bringing him coffee and food, giving him encouraging pats on the back, neck rubs, and words of praise, but the albino had dark circles under his eyes, his nice white hair was sticking out madly from all the times he'd run his hands through it in frustration, and his crimson eyes were bloodshot, giving him a very creepy appearance. Mathias wished he could help more, but he wasn't a technical kind of guy at all. Encouragement and support were the only things he could contribute, here. And Gilbert really needed a good night's sleep, without all this responsibility on his shoulders. He'd barely had a break! Today's work had been almost a hundred percent failure. Again.

Gilbert was sagging visibly. "It's a good thing we're still close to a satellite," he admitted. "It's easier to elude any possible traces." He set the tablet down and cracked his knuckles.

"But did you find out anything new?" Norge asked him.

"No. Same as yesterday, same as the day before. Everything still seems to be working as normal." The albino took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. On the first day he'd gotten into into some of the network systems back in Athens and had taken a peek for activity. Electronic communications were traveling within the dome, but all Gilbert could do was watch the network traffic. He couldn't tell whether the Jones people were trying to get word out, either. Maybe they didn't even know about all this. It was almost as if someone had sealed them off. Gilbert shrugged, looking up from his seated position on the floor, and met Tino's eyes.

Mathias knew he'd been able to get into systems under other domes; he'd done that almost immediately on the first day. But apparently Jones was on some kind of new tight security. He feared it was because of their escape, and hoped that Arthur and Lovino were safe, and not in trouble.

"I got into the bank's systems, but of course they're based on Earth. We can't specifically target that one bank branch. But since you told me there were no known sympathizers in the town, I didn't want to risk anything by trying to send a communication to someone there, through bank channels or something. I'm sorry. I've been over every angle, and that's the best I can do." The albino sighed again.

"But he's exhausted," Mathias interposed, just in case they were going to try to push his friend to do more. "Gilbert needs some rest." He hoped he wasn't being too forward for a newcomer, but he needed to make sure Gilbert would be all right.

"I understand," Tino acknowledged. "Please feel free to eat and rest. At this point I think we'll call it off, temporarily. You're driving yourself past rational limits, and while you've done excellent work, I don't want to keep pushing you. I'm pleased that you were able to at least discern the systems operating. We know they've still got power, that people are still alive and working." He raised his voice to address the room. "If anyone comes up with any ideas for getting through to Jones, please tell me or Norge. All right? But let Gilbert get some rest for a couple of days."

People nodded and gave the albino encouraging grins before returning to their work. Mathias hoped they'd come up with something. He could tell that Tino was trying to be brave, for the sake of the other people on the ship, but it had to be nerve-wracking, not being able to reach his 'husband,' not knowing just what was happening.

They'd met several different groups of people, many of whom worked in other areas of the ship but had stopped by to meet the new teammates. Mathias couldn't keep their names straight, except for the adorable blonde Katia, but she worked in the kitchens and had gone back there almost immediately after dropping off some sandwiches at lunchtime each day.

"Come on," he now said, resting a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Let's gather up your gear and go eat, or sleep, or something."

The exhausted hacker nodded without answering and began to pack his things into their bags.

Tino turned around to leave the room. "Come on, Norge; let's get back to my office. There doesn't seem to be anything more to do. Oh, and Eduard?" A weary Von Bock had stayed in the command center every day too. "Tomorrow, give them the ship's tour after breakfast, and all three of you stay away from this room!" He smiled nicely at them all.

"Yes, sir." Eduard stood up. "Come find me in the morning," he told the two friends before shuffling off.

Gilbert had finished packing up by now, so they all left the command post, Tino and Norge heading to the left, and Eduard, with Gilbert and Mathias, to the elevators on the right.

…

"Christ," Gilbert said, collapsing on the lower bunk after a hasty meal.

Mathias sat next to him. "You are really good. I can tell a lot of people are impressed with you."

The albino managed a weak smile. "Thanks. I'm so tired I'm beyond tired, you know? Tired and frustrated."

"Yeah. I've been that way once or twice. Can I do anything to help? Do you want anything to drink, or, well, I don't know."

"Nothing, really. Wish there was a bathtub around here. A long hot bath would be perfect."

"Well, there's probably a shower somewhere. Want me to go find out?"

"Please?" Gilbert gave him a very cheesy smile, eyebrows raised and lots of teeth.

Mathias laughed. "Sure. Rest a while. I'll hunt somebody down and find out."

"Thanks."

It turned out the nearest shower was right across the hall. He slipped back to tell Gilbert and found him sleeping already. Now what? Should he wake him?

Yes, he decided. He should. "Hey," he said, touching his shoulder. "Wake up."

"I totally wasn't asleep, you know." Gilbert sat up. "Did you find a shower?"

"Right across the hall. But…no bathtubs on the ship."

"I kind of thought so. Oh, well. Someday I'll have a bath, I hereby vow. Thanks for finding out, though." He got off the bed and rummaged through his bag for some clean lounging pants. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time. Relax and enjoy."

Once his friend had left, Mathias dug through his own bag for something clean to wear. Now that he'd found out about the shower, it was all he could think of. Well, he didn't want to make Gilbert feel weird by following him into the shower like some stalker. He'd wait. When he came back, Mathias would take a turn.

…

When they were clean and seated on the bed together, Gilbert reached for his tablet. "Don't," Mathias said. "You're exhausted. Stop obsessing about it."

"I did think of something, but I didn't want to try it tonight; I'm too tired and didn't want to slip up. And we should probably clear it with Tino, or Norge."

"That Norge guy – he keeps staring at me." Mathias shook his head.

"Because you're so good-looking! Everybody stares at you." Gilbert blushed after saying this, and then Mathias blushed, and they sat there not meeting each other's eyes, until the albino cleared his throat and began to speak again. "So anyway, I can possibly get into the Government systems and find out just what they did to close Jones off. And if I can find how they did it, maybe I can unlock it, or whatever you want to call it. I don't know." He seemed thoughtful.

"That might be risky, though, if they could trace it. And then, if they spotted that it was unlocked, they might just lock it again."

"That's what I mean. That's why I didn't do it yet, why I want to talk to Tino. But I had a different awesome idea while I was in the shower, too, something I can do right now. Listen; this is really good!"

Mathias laughed at his new enthusiasm. "Okay. Tell me."

"Well, we can't get through to the school, right? Which means they can't get through to us, either. Tino would have told us, if he'd gotten some news from his husband."

"Maybe he's testing you."

Gilbert considered and dismissed that. "No. Too elaborate. And I really can't get into Jones. Unless Oxenstierna is pulling this stunt from their end, there's no reason to suspect it's a hoax."

"Yeah, you're right. Too many people would have to be in on it."

"Right. So, you'd expect that at least Oxenstierna would be trying to contact us, to find out if all is well, even if he wasn't going to send Arthur and Lovino along yet. Right?"

"I guess. If he even knows about this – this problem. Maybe they're just going along and not noticing it."

"No, that can't be. Lovino and Arthur would have been pestering them to leave when there was a free pod, and the pod that we took failed to come back. Oxenstierna would understand that _something_ was wrong, even if he didn't grasp the technical details. Right?"

Mathias grudgingly conceded that Gilbert might be right.

"So, he at least," the albino went on, "is probably panicking. Now, Adnan is 'one of us,' as they've been saying here. I'm guessing he and Oxenstierna know this about each other, and work together, right? Right. That's logical. By this point, then, they probably both know about this problem."

"I don't get what you're driving at."

Gilbert rubbed his eyes. "I know. I'm tired. Just let me talk it out, all right? You don't even have to pay attention if you don't want to, but I need to talk it out."

Mathias put his arm around him and squeezed. "Talk. I'll listen. I'll try to help." He yawned, though, and covered his mouth with his other hand sheepishly.

"Okay, cool." Gilbert leaned against him for a second. "So now we have Adnan and Oxenstierna, both either baffled or panicking because they can't get through to Persephone." He fiddled with the tablet, but didn't power it on yet.

"Right."

"I can get through to the bank systems."

"You're not going to embezzle something, are you?" Mathias was so incredulous that Gilbert burst out laughing.

"No, my awesome friend. Think. Remember that Lovino works for Oxenstierna? My further thinking here is that maybe Oxenstierna will tell him about this problem. Right? There's a possibility that Lovino will find out about the problem."

"Still not getting you."

Gilbert punched him in the arm. "Ow. Damn, you're solid." He shook out his fingers. "Anyway, if we consider that Lovino might find out, then I can send him a message through the bank. I'll take some of the money from one of our other accounts and deposit a big chunk of it in that account. That way he'll see the deposit date; he'll know such a big bundle of cash could only have come from me, and he'll know I'm trying to get in touch! Right?" He beamed.

"Uh. Really?" Mathias scratched his head and made a face. "There are a hell of a lot of variables in that plan. What makes you think Lovino would even bother to go to the bank? If they're locked in, why would he need money? Maybe this problem thing will be solved before he even gets there. Maybe Oxenstierna won't tell –"

"All right, all right!" Gilbert started laughing. "You're right. It's kind of a stupid idea. And if the problem thing is solved before he gets to the bank, no big deal, right? But I'd at least be doing something_._ And most of that money actually belongs to Lovino and Arthur anyway. I'm going to do it. Chances are they'll go downtown at some point – we used to go down every weekend, just to get away from the shitheads at school – and if they check the bank, they'll know it's from me. Whether they know about this problem or not." He began tapping the surface of the tablet. "They'd know you and I were all right, at least, since we were able to transfer the money."

"Okay. Well, you do what you need to do; let me know if I can help." Mathias watched as the nimble white fingers danced on the thin glass screen.

"Think eighty thousand will get the message across?" Gilbert asked idly. "It's not much but it's a lot more than they had in that account."

"_E-eighty thousand?_"

"Whoops! Kesesese! I forgot you really didn't know about our business much. Yeah. We made a lot of cash, but I invested it and made more. Just don't tell anybody on this ship yet, all right? I don't want to be pressured about donating money to the cause, or whatever like that. Okay?" He tapped a few more times. "There. Done."

"You know I wouldn't blab about it."

Gilbert reached up and rubbed his friend's spiky hair. "I know. Sorry." He powered down the tablet, then put it away, and finally yawned. "Wow. I really am exhausted."

"Then go to sleep!"

"Inside or outside?" Gilbert asked him casually. "I don't mind."

Mathias hesitated. They'd been sharing the lower bunk every night, mostly because they were both too tired to argue. "Outside, I guess. I'm not too worried about, uh, ambush, anymore, but…"

"Fine with me." Gilbert stretched before getting into the bed. "At least this bunk is bigger than the upper one."

"Think we'll get that tour of the ship tomorrow?" Mathias then wondered.

"We should. We should make sure of it. I still feel sort of adrift, because we don't know much about the ship itself."

"Heh. Okay. I'll round up Eduard tomorrow morning while you have a leisurely breakfast."

"Kesesese! Deal!"

Mathias slipped into bed; the lights automatically went off. "Good night, Gilbert."

His friend's voice was soft. "Good night, Mathias. And – and thanks."

…

_Athens is the capital of the world. Thanks for voting in my dA poll._


	20. A Glimmer of Hope

**A Glimmer of Hope.**

Students were getting tense with each other, and everyone knew it was because the food offerings had been cut back so dramatically. No formal announcement had been made to the students, but the meal cutbacks were blatant. A week into this 'lockdown,' as Adnan had called it, and people seemed to be reverting to animals, fighting each other for something to eat. Luckily Lovino and Arthur still had a good supply of meal pills – they'd both brought a lot of them, this year – but they were pretending to be starving just like everyone else, because they didn't want to be singled out or attacked for the pills. They'd begun getting up early for breakfast, just to make sure they got some real food. Lovino had even eaten stew in the refectory the other night. He hadn't felt well afterwards, but at least it preserved one precious pill for later.

The bastard teachers weren't eating in the refectory any more, he had noticed. He wondered whether they still had private food stores, and how long it would be before some fucker attacked a teacher to take their food. Then he wondered whether anyone would dare attack the fat nasty nurse in the infirmary; this idea made him laugh a little.

A lot of the students had started cutting classes to go downtown to the restaurants there, and the administration – Adnan included – wasn't cracking down on this too much. At work duty on Tuesday Oxenstierna had confessed that they really had no idea what to do about it. Other than that, they hadn't discussed much about the problem or the chances of escape. It seemed a bit futile to talk about it, when nothing could be done. He'd learned a little bit more about how Persephone had come to be, and how they constantly eluded Government pursuit. Lovino had shared that with Arthur, for what it was worth. But they were all equally in the dark at this point, and could only wait and see.

He and Arthur had stayed up very late one night discussing all this. Not only the lockdown, and the worries about their friends, but the surprising willingness of both Adnan and Oxenstierna to spill the beans about Persephone and the Resistance.

Arthur had pointed out that Oxenstierna had been watching Lovino for a few years, and had found him trustworthy; since Lovino trusted Arthur, Oxenstierna would too. It wasn't difficult for an observer to see how close the two friends were now. Besides, now that they had seen him voluntarily ship Gilbert and Mathias off somewhere, the maintenance man had probably considered it more sensible to explain everything than to risk them asking awkward questions where others could hear. That if Arthur and Lovino were taken into confidence, they'd feel like conspirators and keep silent, rather than talking about it openly and risking it getting to the wrong ears.

But Lovino felt that he himself was "the wrong ears," given his father's alleged employment by the Government. He didn't feel loyal to the system, of course, but if he were Oxenstierna – or Adnan – he wouldn't confide in anyone unless he knew for certain that they supported this Resistance. Of course, he had always been the suspicious type.

Arthur: But maybe they think we're young enough to _become_ Resistance. If they convince us. Lure us into the fold, kind of.

Lovino: I agree with the theory, but if my fucking father's in the Government, why the hell am I even here?

Arthur: You always talk about what a bastard your father is. Maybe you should write to him and ask him. Maybe he'd appreciate that and give you a straight answer.

Lovino: Stupid. We're on a lockdown. How can I get word to him, even if I wanted to? Or what if talking to him creates more problems? I'm not going to risk it.

Arthur: All right. Whatever suits you. (Hugs Lovino.) I can give you something much nicer to think about!

Lovino: Stop that. I'm serious. And, even if we don't talk about my father, what about stupid Antonio and Francis? Why would their fathers send them here?

Arthur: Maybe they're Government spies. (Loud laughter.)

Lovino (eyes wide): Hey! You might be right, though. What if they're not really students, but part of the Government? I assumed they were sent here by their parents, but maybe not. Maybe they work undercover.

Arthur: Then the Government are a lot of knob jockeys. Would _you_ choose those two to be spies?

Lovino: Good point. Uh – what's a knob jockey? (Arthur whispers in his ear.) _Oh._ (Laughs.)

They'd gone on to rehash these same arguments over and over, with no conclusion. Lovino decided that Adnan had been a little too free with his information, but of course, if the principal wanted to continue confiding in them, they'd listen, and keep it to themselves, and confer about it when alone. More information was always better.

No one from Earth had come to investigate, and the school was still unable to communicate with the outside world. Students had begun complaining because they couldn't send or receive sat-mails, and the staff had met these comments with poker faces. What was to be done? Maybe they'd die here, he and Arthur. Maybe the Government was trying to do some kind of mass purge, cutting them off until everyone starved to death or killed each other. Though that didn't really make sense. If they could lock down the entire dome without coming to Mars, they could probably just shut down the air converters remotely and kill everyone that way. He sighed. There was nothing they could do about it, and worrying it over wouldn't do a damn bit of good.

That wasn't the worst thing, though. For Lovino personally, the biggest annoyance was that Martín absolutely would not leave him alone. He followed Lovino around, pleading with him for Spotlight, for cigarettes, anything. "You're not a first-year anymore!" the Italian now snapped. "Go get your own cigarettes!" He'd been pretending to work at one of the tables outside, but kept turning his gaze to the sky and wondering (again, and again) if he and Arthur would ever escape. He didn't need the stupid Argentinean pestering him; he needed to think!

"Oh, Vargas, you cold-hearted dick. Just go downtown and pick some up for me. I can't leave Manu alone; he's so upset about this food rationing that he's getting in fights with everyone." Martín gave Lovino a very silly begging look.

"You're not with him now," Lovino smirked.

"Because I had to ask you to get me some cigarettes! I've got to go find him. Please?"

"Fine, bastard. Have him beat the crap out of Antonio, if he wants to do something useful. I'll bring you a goddamn pack of cigarettes."

"Thanks, _boludo!_ I knew you'd do it." The blond blew him a kiss and skipped away. "Bring more than one pack!"

What the fuck; now he had to go downtown. Well, he and Arthur had nothing in particular to do, so he'd hunt his roommate down and make him go too. He began shoving his things back into his book bag.

"Hello, sweet thing," he heard behind him in a low tone, before he could even get up from the table.

"Hello yourself, blond bastard," Lovino laughed, as Arthur came around to sit beside him. "Want to go downtown?"

"What for? Food?"

"Cheh, well, yeah, if you want, but stupid Martín wants some cigarettes."

"What? Why can't he get them himself?"

Lovino smirked. "Apparently the Chilean fucker's beating up everyone in sight, and Martín has to babysit him to keep him out of trouble."

"Hah. Should have told him to beat up bloody Antonio."

"I did!" Lovino finished packing his bag. "Come on. Nothing better to do."

"I don't have any cash with me, though."

Lovino stopped. "Me neither. Fuck, I don't want to run all the way back to the room just for cash."

"Can you see Martín? Maybe he'd give us some."

But the Argentinean was nowhere in sight. "Let's just go. We can make a bank withdrawal. There's still a couple hundred in there."

"Okay. Come on." Together they headed towards the town.

…

Lovino almost screamed when he saw the bank balance, and it was only Arthur's foot stepping on his that stopped him. "Ow," he said instead.

"I thought you boys might be in today. That big deposit came through last night." The manager smiled at them.

"Thanks," the blond replied. "But a hundred is all we need right now." He filled out a withdrawal form, signing it, and slid it across the countertop.

As the man moved away to get the cash, the two friends stared at each other. "How the hell?" Lovino whispered.

Arthur shook his head and gestured towards the doors. The bank man gave him the money with a very friendly smile; the two students thanked him and left the building.

"What the _fuck!"_ Lovino yelled, once they were out of range.

Arthur blew out a breath. "Don't yell about it, git. Come sit." He led the way to a rusty café table on the sidewalk, reading the bank printout.

"But still! Eighty fucking thousand. Where the hell did it come from?" Lovino plunked down in the rickety chair opposite him.

"Isn't it obvious? Gilbert must have put it there."

Lovino's eyes widened. "You really think so?"

"Don't be an idiot. Who the hell else would randomly give us eighty thousand dollars?" Arthur made a face and poked him.

"Th-then they are safe!" The brunet sagged. "Thank God. I hope Mathias is all right."

"Hey, wait a minute," Arthur realized, staring at the deposit date on the printed slip. "Do you know what this means? It means the bank is not part of the lockdown. Or else that Gilbert knows how to get around the lockdown but that this was the only safe way he could think of to let us know."

They stared at each other. "Y-you really think so? How did he do it?" the brunet wondered.

"Through the bank on Earth, probably. You know. Deposit money in any branch and you can take it out anywhere? It shows up in the bank records here."

"That still doesn't make sense, bastard. If we're all under a _lockdown_, then we must all be 'locked down.' Right? That's the whole fucking point! So how can the bank still be open to inter- inter – whatever?" Lovino waved his hands in agitation.

Arthur scowled. "I don't know! I'm not really certain it was Gilbert's doing, but it's got to be some kind of loophole in this lockdown. The money didn't get here until a week after the bloody lockdown started. So whatever the reason, the loophole is there."

"Do you think Oxenstierna or Adnan thought about this?"

"Bet they didn't," Arthur considered. "Bollocks. Maybe now we can get messages through the bank, somehow? Come on, let's go tell them!" He jumped up from the bench.

"Maybe." Lovino scanned the bank slip again. "But wait."

"What's the matter with you? Come on; we should at least tell Adnan."

"No – no, please, Arthur. Just wait a second." He stared at the paper. "Let's go back to the bank."

"What for? Want to make a big withdrawal? Ha ha."

"Yes."

"What? Why?" Arthur's dark eyebrows drew together in a frown.

Lovino pushed himself away from the table. "Message to the bastard. That we know what he did, and that we're all right. Maybe this _is_ the only way they could get through to us. Come on. We'll make a withdrawal, just get a check or whatever. He'll know it wasn't just random – what the hell would we do with twenty thousand at this dump? Then we can redeposit it in a few days. At least he'll know we got the message. And if this is nothing to do with him, it won't hurt anything."

"Whew. That's bloody smart of you."

"Cheh, I know, idiot. Hurry up; the bank's closing soon." They began to walk back.

"You know what might be better, though? If we took out a little bit every day."

"What the fuck for?"

Arthur put this into words very slowly. "To keep telling him we're all right. I mean, what if this thing isn't lifted for a month or more? The bank bloke's going to get mighty pissed off, not to mention suspicious, if we keep withdrawing and depositing the same money every day. If we come down and withdraw a grand every day, then Gilbert might check on us every day and understand that we're still all right. Still able to come to the bank, anyway. Take turns signing for it. And a thousand's a good amount. Big enough to get Gilbert's attention, but low enough to last us a long time. Eighty days."

"I can do the math, bastard. But that's pretty smart too. And then if there's something really important going on, we could redeposit it all in one gigantic lump. Like if we know the lockdown is lifted. Something to get his attention and make him look around."

Arthur nodded. "If we're right about him knowing this. But then, if we're going to do that, I don't want to tell Adnan or anyone else."

He didn't need to elaborate. Lovino was just as suspicious. "Right. Come on. Let's go in."

The bank manager was exceedingly accommodating (and fuck, he should be, with this kind of money in the bank). He drew up the draft, handing it to the brunet with an unctuous smile. "Please continue to use us for your banking needs."

"Of course." Lovino shook the man's hand and pocketed the draft.

"Have you heard anything about this lockdown?" Arthur blurted to him. Lovino held his breath.

"Not at all," the man said, disappointing them both. "We're still able to do business, but our supply pod hasn't come in, and nobody's answering our memos from HQ. We have enough food and water supplies for a while, but we have no idea what's going on."

"Dammit," Lovino muttered. "Uh – sorry, sir. Didn't mean to be disrespectful. It's just that nobody at school knows anything and we were hoping someone in town might know."

"Well, if I hear anything, and if I see you down here, I'll let you know. How's that?"

"Thanks. Yes. We might be down here a lot more," Arthur told him; "classes are sort of falling by the wayside, while this goes on. Not much else to do."

"Fine. You bring me news, I'll give you news. Deal?"

"Deal. Thanks again, Mr. Laurinaitis!" The two friends left the bank.

"That was bloody inconclusive."

Lovino sighed. "I know. I just feel so fucking helpless!"

"Don't sweat it. We all do. Let's just get stupid Martín's cigarettes and go back."

"Yeah. Let's pick up some pastries or something while we're here, before the fucking bakery runs out of supplies. I'm sick of meal pills."

"Whatever you say, loverboy."

The brunet punched him and led the way to the tobacconist's.

…

Adnan and another teacher, Mr. Karpusi, were idly walking around the school grounds when they got back. On the one hand this was good: no cameras would overhear them or monitor their conversation. On the other hand: how would they get rid of Karpusi so they could talk to Adnan? The man taught Greek and Ancient History, and while Lovino had never really enjoyed those subjects, he at least felt no animosity towards the lethargic teacher.

The principal caught Arthur's eye, then Lovino's, and spoke quietly to the Greek teacher, who drifted off with a casual wave to the boys.

"News?" Adnan asked.

Arthur told him what they'd learned.

"Well, that explains something," Adnan told them, rubbing his chin meditatively. "Not much, but at least it's not directed at Jones specifically. I haven't even had time to get downtown or I might have discovered this a few days ago. Maybe we should have an assembly; at least it would inform people, and they might stop beating each other up. That crazy Chilean has been in my office nonstop."

Lovino was secretly pleased to learn that.

Adnan kept rubbing his chin. "Yes. We'll call an assembly for tomorrow morning. Thanks for telling me. Why don't you go tell Berwald? I'm sure he'll be – maybe not _happy_ but at least slightly relieved to learn of it as well."

"Okay." Arthur nodded. "We'll keep to ourselves, after that. We'll see you at an assembly?"

"Yes. Thank you. I'll go call a staff meeting now." Adnan left.

Martín must have been waiting for the principal to leave. He now pelted up to them, hand outstretched. "Hey! Vargas! Did you get them? Give, give!"

Lovino scowled at him. "Pay, pay," he said sarcastically. "Fifty dollars, bossy bastard." He held his hand out expectantly.

"You really do drive a hard bargain." But Martín pulled out his wallet and paid the money.

"Why didn't you just drag bloody Manuel downtown with you? Then you could have gotten your own blasted cigarettes and bought him something to eat, too!" Arthur shook his head in disbelief.

Martín and Lovino both stopped what they were doing and stared first at Arthur and then at each other, before Lovino burst out laughing. "Stupid idiot," he said, flicking the Argentinean in the forehead. "Go play with your violent little loverboy." Still laughing, he put an arm around Arthur's shoulder and the two of them wandered off, leaving a stunned Martín holding three packs of cigarettes and watching them with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"What a brainless git."

"Hey! Shut up," Lovino pointed out. "I was pretty brainless, too, for not thinking of it earlier."

Arthur shrugged. "Whatever. At least we got the bank information, and all that."

"Made a little money, too. Come on, let's go back upstairs. We need to talk about what to do once the lockdown is lifted."

The Brit nodded and they walked towards their dormitory in the fading afternoon light.

…

They settled in together on Lovino's bed: he face down, propped up on his elbows, and Arthur next to him lying on his back. Arthur had been getting very good at speaking without moving his lips much. Despite the apparent trust placed in them by Mr. Oxenstierna and the principal, they still didn't want any security people knowing what they talked about in the privacy of their dorm room. They didn't even know which other staff members might be safe, might be in this Resistance or whatever. Not worth risking it.

"You look so tired," Arthur now said in his normal voice. "More than usual."

"I'm not sleeping well. This – this whole thing is maybe the worst thing I've ever experienced."

The blond blinked. "Worse than your first year? How so?"

Lovino's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Idiot. Because we, by which I mean every fucking person under this dome, are clueless about what the fuck's happening to us. Wh-what if the Government decided Jones was a failed experiment? They're just mothballing this place, and letting us die or be killed, without telling anyone?"

"At least we'll die together."

"Cheh, that's fucking romantic and all, but be serious. Is that kind of a thought _really_ a consolation to you? Wouldn't you rather get out of here?" But Lovino took his hand and kissed it, to soften the impact of his harsh words.

"Of course I would. M-my dream is for you and me to be free together somewhere. Anywhere. Like you said when we first talked, someplace where we control our own destiny. But it seems like that may never happen. Seems like even on Earth, nobody has that kind of a lifestyle. Not truly."

"I know." He squeezed those strong, pale fingers, sighing. "I've been thinking about this bank business, and I'm now convinced you're right – it's definitely something to do with the albino bastard. So, in that respect, I have a glimmer of hope, because if he's – 'watching over us'? – maybe he'll find a way to get us away. I feel like Adnan is such a fucking bleeding heart that he'd waste a lot of time and effort trying to get _everyone_ out of here to safety, and that seems like a recipe for failure."

"That's a noble sentiment, though."

"I know. I know that I _should_ think more kindly of him for that, but at this point I still think he's too fucking naïve. We still don't know much about this Persephone. Not for real. What if Adnan succeeds and we all, everyone, gets safely to that ship? Is the ship big enough? What do we do, once we're there? Just ride around in a goddamn spaceship for the rest of our lives?"

Arthur nodded in understanding. "You know, I had an idea before. But – but you, really, are the only one at Jones who could do it, and you probably wouldn't want to." He wouldn't meet Lovino's eyes.

"What idea? What the hell are you talking about?"

"W-well, you know we talked about why Antonio and Francis are here, if they're affiliated with the Government?"

Lovino nodded slowly but he could already sense where Arthur was heading, and he didn't like it a bit.

"You could try to get close to him and find out more." His voice was very soft, and he squeezed the Italian's fingers. "Not – not that way. I know you wouldn't want to do that, and I'm afraid I'd be too bloody jealous, even if I knew you were doing it for the right reasons. But maybe if you sat down and talked to him –"

Lovino had to interrupt. Surprisingly, he was not pissed off at the suggestion. "It wouldn't work," he said quietly. "The fucker doesn't ever want to just _talk_ to me. All he ever wants is sex; at least, that's the only topic he's ever brought up, around me. And I wouldn't – wouldn't –"

Arthur raised Lovino's fingers and kissed them. "I'm sorry. I would never throw you to the wolves, that way, but it seemed like we might be able to get some information. I am sorry."

His eyes were so wide and troubled that Lovino leaned over and kissed him, and then lay down, pillowing his head on Arthur's chest. "Don't worry about it. I understand your thinking. That's noble, too. I-if I thought we really could get any information, m-maybe I'd try it, but not once has he ever talked to me about any normal topic at all. Not about schoolwork, not about home, orfball, nothing."

"Okay." Arthur stroked his hair. "We'll think of something eventually."

"Do you think we should keep our bags packed? If they lift the lockdown we might be able to sneak out of here right away."

"That's good. In fact if Oxenstierna would let us, we could leave the packed bags down by the dock. Then we wouldn't need to waste time coming to the room for them."

"Bit risky, though. If someone like Antonio saw them."

"Do you think Antonio and Francis are in collusion? Maybe Francis knows about the lockdown. If I could – er – cozy up to him about it, maybe I could get some information?" Arthur blushed.

"Dammit. I wish Gilbert had set up some spy tech for us. We could –"

The two students looked at each other with wide eyes. "The security cameras," Arthur breathed. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Come on; let's go find Adnan. He can watch the recordings, maybe see what the hell's going on."

Although it was near curfew, the two of them ran hell-for-leather out of the room and down to the administration building.

…

_For those readers unfamiliar with the human names, I'll start listing the new characters at the end of each chapter. Here's a master list of everyone so far:_

_Lovino = Romano  
__Arthur = England  
__Gilbert = Prussia  
__Mathias = Denmark  
__Berwald (Oxenstierna) = Sweden  
__Sadik (Adnan) = Turkey  
__Eduard von Bock = Estonia  
__Manuel = Chile  
__Mart__í__n = Argentina  
__Antonio = Spain  
__Francis = France  
__Vladimir = Romania  
__Tino = Finland  
__Norge = Norway (he doesn't have an official human name)  
__Ludwig = Germany  
__Feliciano = Veneziano  
__Katia = Ukraine  
__Laurinaitis = Lithuania  
__Karpusi = Greece  
__Cuba is going by "Cuba"_

_Braginsky = Russia  
__Vash (Zwingli) = Switzerland_

_More to come, of course._

_I really do appreciate all the comments. Many times you'll say something in a review which I am then able to work into the story. Thanks!_


	21. Different Kinds of Tension

**Different Kinds of Tension.**

Mathias woke up, looked at the sleeping Gilbert, and scrambled out of the bed as noiselessly as he could. Damn! Sharing a bed with his friend was beginning to unnerve him. Mathias had thought he didn't mind it, but the last two mornings he'd awakened to find himself cuddling Gilbert close to him, like a damned plush toy, or a – a lover. (He didn't like admitting that, even to himself, and every time the thought flickered in his mind, he forced himself to think of a stuffed animal instead.) He didn't want to lose this friendship, not at all, but if he kept hugging him and snuggling up, the albino was bound to get nervous or pissed off! So he'd been forcing himself to get up early, to avoid awkwardness and explanations when Gilbert woke up. He couldn't figure out a graceful way to suggest they start sleeping separately, either. It had been over a week since they'd arrived on Persephone, and if he suddenly said something about it now, he was afraid he'd hurt Gilbert's feelings. Damn.

But…it did feel very nice.

Nope. He wouldn't let himself think about that. Mathias hurried to the shower, hoping Gilbert would be awake when he got back. The Dane wasn't generally an early riser, but here on Persephone there wasn't much to do. He'd gotten in the habit of going to bed early, when Gilbert did, which meant he awoke early. Well, that was all right. At least he had some quiet time in the mornings.

They'd finally had the tour, and this ship was so big – and there were so many new people to meet, and new things to investigate – that Gilbert hadn't had a chance to check and see whether Lovino had gotten his bank "message." Tino had run into them in the hallway and told them the hacking project was definitely on hold for now; he was involved in another project which would be consuming all his time. They'd both felt somewhat reassured by the fact that Oxenstierna too was trapped with their friends; Tino would be very careful and attentive to the situation, just as much as they were. So the two of them had planned a leisurely day today, maybe hanging out with Ludwig over lunch, or some of the other guys and girls they'd met.

Everyone on Persephone seemed quite young. The oldest one on the ship was clearly Tino, who couldn't have been much above thirty. But if they'd mainly focused on rescuing students, that made sense. This ship and its operations had only been functional for about ten years. They'd learned of other institutions on other planets, moons and stations, but so far none had sounded as bad as Jones had, back when Braginsky had been in charge.

Back in the little room, Gilbert was awake and stretching. "Hey, my awesome friend. Do you always get up this early?"

"Not really," Mathias laughed, struggling into his clothing, "but then, there's no reason to stay up late, so there's no reason to sleep late."

"I know. Wish there was something on this ship like a bowling alley, or whatever. Paintball. _Something._"

"Or a casino!"

"Hah. You won't catch me gambling away my hard-earned money. But didn't Eduard say there was a movie room somewhere? We should see if we can find it. At least that would be something to do."

"Sure." Now dressed, Mathias sat at the tiny table in the center of the room. "Do we have any real plans for today? Did you want to check whether Lovino went to the bank?"

"Oh! Yes." Gilbert bounced out of the bed and patted his friend on the spiky wet hair. "Ugh." He wiped his hand on a towel. "But thanks. I knew there was something I wanted to do today. Let me go wash up and we can check when I'm done."

"Okay. Want me to get the tablet out?"

"Nah, I'll do it when I get back." Gilbert grabbed an armful of things and went to the shower, whistling.

When he returned, a towel wrapped around his hips, he lowered himself into a chair without getting dressed first. "Hand me the bag."

"Don't you have any modesty?" Mathias exploded.

"What? You want me to get dressed? Kesesese, sure, I don't mind. Whatever makes you happy." He hustled to the tiny dresser and pulled some clothing out. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. But you know, having a room to myself, I kind of got in the habit of just doing whatever I wanted, which sometimes meant walking around naked. Sorry."

"You walked around naked under the security camera?" Mathias wondered how the hell Braginsky had managed to restrain himself from attacking Gilbert's beautiful pale body, and then he raised a hand to his mouth and started biting his fingernails to get his mind off that.

"Well. Not really. I mean, I usually had on shorts, or a towel, or something. Walking around totally naked is a bit weird." He blushed, but by now he was dressed, so he grabbed the bag and pulled the tablet out onto the table, focusing on his work.

Maybe he was dropping the conversation to spare Mathias some embarrassment. The Dane put his elbows on the table and tried to be nonchalant. "How long will it take you to find out about the money?"

"Couple minutes, unless something's changed. But hey, that reminds me. You didn't tell anyone that I'd done that, did you?"

"Who would I tell? No. Didn't tell anyone."

"Good. Don't."

"Okay, but why?"

"Ah, I don't even know. I just feel a little funny, baring all our secrets to total strangers. If we get through for real, I'll tell someone, but…for now, let's keep it between us."

"Got it, chief," Mathias laughed, and Gilbert gave him a little punch in the arm.

Tap-tap-tap. "Yes!" He thrust a fist into the air. "Yes, I am so awesome!" He did a little seated victory dance.

"He's been to the bank?"

"Yes, indeed. He took out a thousand dollars. Twice! Wait. He, or they, took out a hundred, and then a couple minutes later a thousand, and then the next day, a thousand. I wonder why? What the hell are they going to do with money there?" He tapped some more, looking up the transactions. "Yeah. Arthur signed for the first one, then Lovino, and then Arthur again."

"Assuming they're still sealed off, maybe they have to start paying for food or something. I mean, if supply pods can't get in, they're going to start running low on food. Maybe there's some kind of bidding war for food supplies?"

Gilbert gasped. "I didn't even think of that. Shit. If they run out of food it's going to be mayhem. They'll all kill each other!"

"Well, they can still go downtown. Right? If he got to the bank. They can get food at the stores or restaurants."

"Yeah, until _those_ bozos run out. Shit, I hope this thing ends soon. You just know somebody like Cuba's going to start beating the shit out of people and taking their food."

"Yeah."

They sat contemplating this. "Well," Gilbert finally decided, "I'm going to put another thousand dollars into the account."

"Now what for?"

He tapped the table. "Well, the way I see it, if they took this money out, they must really, really need it."

"If they need it that badly, why didn't they take the whole eighty grand?"

"Huh. Good point. Fear of robbery?"

"Don't put any money in," Mathias suggested. "Wait another day, or check the – the seal, or whatever we're calling it, and see if you can tell what's going on."

"Yeah. I'll check. Then we should go find some awesome entertainment."

"Believe me, I want to. I'm getting a little stir-crazy, being on this ship."

Gilbert peered at him through eyes that were still a little sleepy. "You should have said."

"What could I have said? What choice have we got?"

"Yeah. I don't know. Hell, if Lovino and Arthur were with us, we could all head for Triton. Then at least we wouldn't be stuck on a ship."

"Gilbert?"

"What?"

"Didn't you tell Tino you were interested in this spy stuff? That first day? How could you do that on Triton?"

"Kesesese! As long as I had access to a satellite I can do anything. Well," he admitted sheepishly, gesturing to his tablet, "almost anything. I wonder if Tino will ask us to actually do anything. Like jobs."

"Whatever they need, I'll do it, if we can stay safe."

"I know. We can't go jaunting off yet anyway. But it's pointless to discuss this until our friends get here. Let's go do something."

"Yeah. Breakfast first, entertainment second."

"You got it, my awesome Danish friend."

…

Over breakfast they found out about the movie theatre. "It kind of, like, sucks," the young man at their table told them, "because we only have, like, ten movies, and they're all totally old. But at least it's something. I'm, like, working on memorizing all the dialogue. Then if I ever get back to Earth I can totally be a movie star!" He flipped his blond hair back over his shoulder with a saucy smile and the wink of a bright green eye.

"Shut up, Feliks," Ludwig said wearily, sipping coffee next to them.

"You shut up, you steroidal freak." Feliks didn't seem perturbed at the tall blond's commentary; he picked up his mug and drank.

During breakfast Mathias and Gilbert pretty much sat and observed, the same as they'd done all week. But in the back of his mind Mathias was quite relieved that Gilbert had opened the secret connection to their friends through the bank. He didn't care what they ended up doing today, because he knew that thought would keep reoccurring and interrupting him.

Feliks' voice broke into his thoughts. "Tino's been acting a little, you know, strange the last few days."

"No wonder. It's got to be distressing about Oxenstierna being trapped and no way to get in touch." Gilbert shrugged. "I mean, we're pretty damn distressed about our friends, but they're just our friends. We're not _married_ to them." He snickered a little.

But both Feliks and Ludwig seemed shocked by this. "You shouldn't disparage another's lifestyle, Gilbert. Even if it's not the way you'd choose to live your own life." Ludwig was quite serious and his tone was hectoring, like an uptight older brother.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Sorry. But you know what I mean."

"I do. But you'll find that Tino commands absolute loyalty on Persephone. He doesn't demand it, but he gets it. He and his team saved all of us. So you'd best watch how you speak of him."

"I said I get it!" Gilbert barked. "Okay?" He caught Mathias' eye and sobered instantly.

The Dane was happy to see that. The last thing they needed was to antagonize these people and prevent the rescue of their friends. "Let's get going," he said, patting the albino on the shoulder. "Maybe those ten movies are 'totally old' but we probably haven't seen them yet."

Gilbert seemed to realize a retreat would be tactically sensible at this point. "Yeah. Take care, you guys. We'll see ya."

"Totally," Feliks grinned, finishing his coffee. Ludwig grunted, but when Feliks poked him he let out a short laugh and waved to the departing friends.

"Watch your mouth," Mathias hissed into Gilbert's ear, once they'd reached the safety of the hallway.

"I know. Sorry." Together they made it to the small screening room, only getting lost once, and settled in to take their minds off things.

…

Later, they ran into Norge coming out of the command center. "Hello," he greeted them abruptly.

"Any news?" Gilbert tried to peer into the room.

"Go see," Norge replied, which struck Mathias as an odd comment. But Gilbert slipped right into the room. When Mathias tried to follow he was stopped by Norge's hand on his arm. "Do you follow him everywhere?" the second-in-command asked.

What the hell business was it of his? "He's my friend," Mathias blurted out with a confused frown, unable to think of any other calm way to respond.

"I could be your friend," Norge told him, his eyes flat and expressionless. "Your special friend. Would you like that?"

_"What?"_ Mathias jerked his arm away. "I – I –"

Thankfully Gilbert came out of the command center at that point; Norge met Mathias' eyes and nodded. "Keep it in mind. Just let me know." He turned and walked away.

Mathias stood and stared in disbelief long after Norge had left the corridor. "Uh – hello?" the albino finally said, knocking on the tall blond's skull.

"Uh," he grunted in response.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm going back to our room," Mathias decided, turning around to head back that way.

"Kesesese! Okay! Mind if I join you? I'm kind of tired of socializing."

"Sure, whatever." He didn't wait to see if his friend followed.

Back in the room he sank onto the lower bunk. Gilbert shut the door. "Now what the hell did that guy say to you?"

"Eh?" Mathias glanced up to meet the smirking crimson eyes. "What – what makes you think he –"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You don't think I know you well enough by now? You were totally embarrassed about something. You came running right back to the room! Come on, you can tell me." He sat on the bed next to his friend.

Mathias struggled to find the words for this. He finally went with "I – I think he was coming on to me."

"I'm not surprised. He asked you for a date? Kesesese! Are you going to go?" Gilbert seemed thoughtful, and leaned back against the wall.

Now this was surprising. "I thought you had some kind of – of phobia thing about men dating? You sounded that way at breakfast, when Ludwig yelled at you about Tino."

Gilbert shrugged. "I don't have a problem with men being lovers. I'm pretty sure Arthur and Lovino are together that way, and they're my best friends after you. It really isn't my place to judge. What it is, it sounds funny for a guy to call another guy his 'husband.' You know? Like that makes Tino the wife! That just sounds so damn silly. Tino's in a position of power and respect, and every time I hear him call Oxenstierna his 'husband' I keep picturing Tino in a stupid little red-checkered dress, baking pies! If they were just people, calling each other their spouses or whatever – or even if they didn't talk about it that way at all, just telling us they were together – then that's perfectly fine." He laced his fingers together behind his head. "You'd never catch me calling anyone 'husband,'" he concluded weakly. "So are you going to go out with Norge? Though I guess it wouldn't be going _out_ per se. You'd be stuck on the ship."

Mathias rubbed his hands through his hair, making it stick up even more. "I'm not going to go out with him!" He wished he'd kept his mouth shut about the whole topic.

"This isn't the most sensible place to start up a relationship," his friend agreed. "Everyone would be gossiping about you. And then, what if you and he decided it didn't work out? Then every time you saw each other it would be awkward. Nah. A pre-existing relationship would work, because then everyone would accept it for granted, but…not a new one."

"I know. I'd feel really awkward going out with any of these people anyway – men _or_ women – because they all know each other and we don't know them well at all yet. And what if we do go somewhere, after Lovino and Arthur get here? Then my – my date," he laughed, "would have to decide to come with us, or keep working for the Resistance. That's a kind of decision nobody should have to make."

"Well, we have each other, my awesome friend. If you don't want to date anybody, that's fine with me, because then we can always hang out together and I don't have to worry about losing you to some hottie." Gilbert began fiddling with his shirt cuffs.

"Yeah. Ditto," Mathias laughed, making the decision to end this line of conversation. He needed some time to think. "I'm going to take a little nap now. I'll nap up top in case you want the bed for anything, to spread out your gear or whatever."

"Oh, good idea." Gilbert jumped up and fetched his bag. "I'll do today's thousand now."

Mathias climbed the short ladder to the upper bunk and lay down facing the wall. "See you in a bit," he said, and Gilbert grunted in response.

…

Mathias had gone on a few dates, back on Earth, but those girls had been meek and boring, and he'd felt so awkward he'd decided it wasn't worth it. And then, of course, he'd been sent to Jones. No chance of dating there. But he lay in the bed and forced himself to consider what it would mean to him. Well: movies. Meals. Working towards the end goals of the Resistance. And - and sex.

Now the Dane allowed himself to think about that for a little while. He had never focused on that too much, either; it wasn't an important factor in life, as far as he was concerned. He tried to picture himself making love to a submissive Norge, and that was weird; the blank face simply stared back at him from the imaginary pillow. Then he tried to picture Norge as the 'husband' and almost started laughing out loud. He pushed his face into the pillow to muffle the sound, so Gilbert wouldn't realize he was still awake, and tried to dial back the fantasies a little.

Now he pictured himself trying to kiss Norge. This was a little more manageable. He imagined himself leaning in close, caressing the white hair, gazing into the crimson eyes – _what?_ No, his mind was wandering. He must really be falling asleep. He wanted to picture Norge, not Gilbert. He tried again, this time beginning with the two of them comfortable in the bed, not kissing or anything, and then his dream-Norge burst out with a "Kesesese!"

Damn it, this was difficult. He tossed and turned in the bunk, but Gilbert, seated at the little table, was oblivious as he worked on his tablet. Mathias closed his eyes again and tried this experiment one more time. He pictured himself and Norge in a secret corner of the ship somewhere, holding each other and sharing love talk. (He felt like an idiot because he couldn't even dream up any convincing love talk!) Then the dream-Norge told him how awesome he was, and that's when Mathias gave up entirely, snorting and rolling back to face the wall. He'd have to think about this later on. Hopefully Norge wouldn't pester him about it.

…

At dinnertime he and Gilbert sat at a table by themselves. Feliciano stopped by to drop a few 've's' and chatter about nothing in particular, but neither one of them really was in the mood for conversation. When Tino wandered over, though, Mathias sat up straight. Had Ludwig told him of Gilbert's thoughtless comment?

But it seemed Tino only wanted to get to know them a little better. "Berwald contacted me after he sent the pod, you know, and I've been curious about something. Where exactly had you planned to go, if you'd been able to program your own destination?" He pulled up a chair and sat; Feliciano beamed at him.

Mathias gestured to his friend, to allow him to divulge as much or as little as he cared to.

"We found a place that would have suited us," Gilbert told Tino, without stating where it actually was. "A development."

"What would you have done when you got there? We have a few people on this ship who have wanted to leave, people not happy with the nomadic lifestyle, but we've never been able to locate a safe place to transfer them. We do send off the occasional person to Earth or to other developments, but this is because they're going there to do Resistance work. Some people choose to do that just to get off the ship."

"We hadn't really thought that far," Gilbert told him. "Settle in, see what needed to be done, I guess. Make it work for us."

Tino was thoughtful. They discussed this for a little while longer – and Mathias noted that Gilbert was carefully avoiding giving out any real information, like the location of the development, and that it was disused – and then Norge walked up to their table and tapped Tino on the shoulder.

Mathias froze at the sight of him. He still didn't know what to say about the man's earlier comment. He turned his gaze to the stainless steel tabletop, blushing, until Tino and his second-in-command walked away.

"He's got it bad," Gilbert said, sounding almost sad about it. "He was staring at you the whole time he talked to Tino."

"I have to get out of here."

"W-want me to come with you?"

"If you like." Mathias didn't want to seem too dependent on his friend, and all those thoughts about sex and husbands and Gilbert came flowing back into his mind.

"Nah. You go, have some alone time. I'll stay here a while. Okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," Mathias gasped out, making his escape.

…

Although it was even earlier than usual, he got ready for bed and climbed up into the upper bunk. Even if he wasn't asleep by the time Gilbert came back, he could pretend he was, and maybe this would provide a way for them to start sleeping separately. He really needed to work this out, so that he at least wouldn't start acting like some blushing pre-adolescent kid every time he saw Norge!

…

Ludwig, and Norge's trusted lieutenant Elizaveta, walked to the head of the lunchroom one morning a few days later. The friends had learned that Ludwig was a sort of assistant to Tino. Not so surprising: the tall German was very no-nonsense. He probably got things done very efficiently. Kesesese! All Germans were awesomely efficient!

"Listen up, people," Elizaveta yelled, grabbing a frying pan from the kitchen counter and hitting the wall with it, like a gong. "Listen to Ludwig!"

Everyone stopped speaking and paid attention to them, including Gilbert (who was feeling optimistic because Lovino and Arthur had kept taking money out of the bank) and Mathias (who had been pointedly avoiding Norge but otherwise seemed back to normal).

Ludwig cleared his throat. "Most of you know that we have been approaching Zero Hour for the Government overthrow."

"Eh?" Mathias blurted out; Gilbert elbowed him, and he settled. Ludwig ignored this and kept speaking.

"In a few hours our agents on Earth will begin the mass purge of Government officials. Our systems will be directed at monitoring the progress through news reports and online communications. Do not tie up systems with anything else."

"The control room is off limits except for necessary personnel," Elizaveta added. "News bulletins will be announced through the ship as we go."

"There is likely to be a lot of fallout from this. You know that if we are successful, you may return to Earth. Any other questions?" Ludwig asked.

Hell, yes, of course Gilbert had questions! Yet everyone else in the lunchroom was acting excited and knowledgeable. He hissed under his breath, loud enough for only Mathias to hear. He didn't want to come across as a clueless dork in front of all these people. Maybe he could collar Ludwig after the bulk of them left.

But of course Ludwig and Elizaveta were both important to this cause, and they departed immediately, presumably to join Tino and Norge in the command center. "You know what to do!" the young woman called out as she left the room.

"Did you know anything about this?" Mathias asked him in an undertone.

"No, and that worries me a lot. Like they didn't trust us? Even though I awesomely spent all that time working on the lockdown problem?"

The Dane nodded. "I know." They looked around at the other people in the room, all of whom were chatting excitedly. He raised a hand and waved to Feliciano, who tripped over to them.

"Ve, isn't this exciting?" He sat opposite Gilbert. "We have been working towards this for a long time!"

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The albino made his expression eager and friendly.

"Not really. Persephone is on the sidelines, really, ve. We'll be monitoring the activity through news feeds, maybe sending messages from one person or group to another, but we're not actively taking part. We're too far away to do much." He smiled at them. "Though I wish I weren't such a chicken! Ve, I'd love to go back to Earth and help with this."

"Can you tell us a little more?" Gilbert asked, somewhat delicately for him. "We haven't heard much, but I've still been busy trying to crack that lockdown at Jones." This wasn't strictly true, but he hoped it was enough of a smokescreen to get Feliciano talking.

"Oh, yes, ve. We have been placing a lot of people on Earth, and the Resistance there is also very strong. That's how we get all these good things to eat!" He gestured to the plate in front of Mathias, which held the remains of some gravlaks and crusts of rye bread.

"An overthrow?" the Dane asked. He too was acting diffident, Gilbert was glad to see.

"Yes! Oh, everyone is so committed. Ve, most of the Government people on Earth have had a Resistance person tailing them – like spies, right, ve! How exciting – and when we reach Zero Hour those people will kill their Government targets. With most, or all, of the Government people dead, the Resistance can take over and things will be better, ve. For everyone."

Gilbert nodded as he thought. "Eduard told us something about the people on Earth, but we didn't realize there was some kind of advanced plan already."

"Ve, we've known about it for a while, but didn't know when exactly it would be. Tino just found out a few days ago, but he hasn't been spreading the news, ve, because he didn't want everyone getting all distracted. We are all desperately hoping it succeeds. A lot of us want to go back to Earth, but we can't."

"And I bet Tino wants to be with Mr. Oxenstierna again," Mathias added.

"Oh, ve, yes. It must be difficult to be away from your loved one." Feliciano put his chin in his hands. "What will you do, if we succeed?" he asked the albino.

"Don't want to think about it yet. Ask me _after_ you awesomely succeed." He was a bit irritated, but tried not to show it.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig called from the doorway.

"Whoops! I'm supposed to be in the command post. Remember, ve, don't come in there today!" He jumped up and ran over to hug the burly blond excitedly; then they left the room.

"_Scheisse,_" Gilbert moaned.

"This seems like it could be big, big trouble."

"Come on, my awesome friend. Let's go back to our room. Maybe I have to stay out of the command post," he whispered, "but that doesn't mean we have to sit around in the dark."

Mathias nodded and they took their dirty dinner plates to the counter before hurrying off.

…

Gilbert first decided to deposit his thousand into the bank account. "Done," he said. "I think things must have stabilized a little. If they really had to use this money to buy food, then you'd expect the cost of the food to go up higher over time. As less food was available. But they keep taking out a thousand every day."

"There aren't any notes or anything in the bank system?"

"Notes about what?" But Gilbert checked. "I don't see anything. They've been taking turns signing the bank slips, that's about it. So I guess they're both all right."

"Did you ever tell Tino about this?"

"No." Gilbert cracked his knuckles, staring blankly at the tablet. "I wasn't sure that Oxenstierna was all right, you know? Didn't want to get his hopes up, if something then went wrong."

"That's considerate of you."

"Looking out for our skin, that's all. If something happens to Oxenstierna, then _I_ don't want to be the one to bring the bad news to Tino. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. Let's talk about this overthrow shit," Mathias then said. "Turn off your tablet and come sit."

The albino was happy to do this. Mathias had begun acting a little distant lately, sleeping in the upper bunk, and not hanging around with Gilbert as much. But he definitely wasn't dating Norge, or anything like that. Still, Gilbert was happy they had this time together, even if it would be spent discussing this overthrow. Maybe they could get back to normal, now that they were united in a cause again.

This whole revolution idea worried him, and he said so. "From what we've seen," he told his friend, lying back on the bed, "all these people seem so naïve. I mean, Feliciano! He's just gurgling about how wonderful it all is." He sighed. "I don't know what to think."

"Maybe we shouldn't think. Maybe we should just let them do what they're doing. What's the worst that could happen?" Mathias lay back, too, resting on his side to face his friend.

Gilbert met the concerned blue eyes. "Are you kidding? Well, let's talk it out." He ticked off points on his fingers. "Resistance tries to overthrow Government. Resistance fails. Everyone affiliated with Resistance has a price on their heads."

"Still not a problem. I already do, and you probably do too. If anybody outside Jones knows about your flight. They're probably trying to pin theft of the pod on you, at least."

"W-well, yes, but then what about Lovino and Arthur? Government overthrows are great, but saving our friends is still my number one priority."

"Mine too. But you know I'm no good at this shit. I'm just the dumb muscle." Mathias sounded really irritated, so Gilbert rolled sideways and hugged him a bit awkwardly.

"Don't say that. Yeah. Your muscles are awesome. But you're a lot more than that, to me. You're the only person around I can trust. My best friend. If we stick together we'll get through it."

But Mathias pulled away from him and wouldn't meet his eyes. "Don't hug me."

"What? Well, all right. Sorry. You're not dating Norge, are you? I didn't think you were, because I never saw you two together, but if you are, and it's weird for me to hug you, then I won't."

"Th-that's not it. But we're getting sidetracked. Talk about this overthrow," he said again, plucking at the blanket beneath them.

Well, they did need to talk about it. But Gilbert meant to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering his friend, too. "What else is there to say? If the Resistance fails, we're shit out of luck. If they win, then I hope we can get Arthur and Lovino here, and then maybe the four of us can go to Triton or someplace together, someplace where we can all relax for a change." He thought about this. "Doesn't even have to be _there_. Just – someplace." He flopped back on the bed again.

"Yeah," the Dane sighed. "That's it in a nutshell. Sit around and wait some more."

Gilbert reached out a hand to touch Mathias' shoulder. "I – uh – I'm sorry, if it disturbs you that I hug you sometimes. Is that why you started sleeping in the upper bunk? I woke up a few times in the night hugging you, and I always pulled away, to give you your space, but maybe it disturbed you too much? I'm really sorry." And he was. He relied on Mathias – hell, you might even say he loved him, in a totally brotherly way, of course. Even though they'd been "rescued," and were on this ship with a bunch of people in similar situations, he still felt that he and Mathias only had each other. He didn't want to lose him.

"I don't know what to think," Mathias said. He rolled face down on the bed and propped himself up on his elbows; he spoke to the pillow instead of facing Gilbert. "I don't want to date Norge. I know that. And there's nobody else I want to date around here, either. Dating just seems so – so stupid and pointless when there's all this other traumatic shit going on." He plucked at the blanket some more. "Th-the reason I started sleeping in the other bunk is because I kept waking up hugging you," he admitted. "I didn't want to piss you off, and then when Norge asked me to date him I got all confused, and – and – " His voice trailed off. "I don't know. I'm confused."

"Don't worry about that at all. We can hug all you want, if you want to, or not, whatever."

Mathias snorted. "Thanks for that, Gil." He poked his friend in the chest. Ah, Gilbert was relieved; that's the Mathias he was used to, not this mopey lovestruck goof.

"How soon do you think we'll know about this takeover?"

"Dunno. Elizaveta said they'd be making announcements. Is there an intercom?" Mathias rolled over and looked around the room.

"I don't remember hearing one yet. Maybe we need to hang out in the public areas."

"Yeah. Well, want to go back to the lunchroom or someplace?"

"Might as well. I bet there's nothing worth looking up, just yet."

"Okay. Let's go."

…

There was no intercom on the ship, or if there was, it wasn't being used. Messages were delivered to the lunchroom by runners, but for a long time the only messages were "Totally nothing to report yet" and "No news, ve, sorry!" After a while, getting more and more pissed off, Gilbert decided to head back to their room. "I'll see what I can find out on my own," he decided in a whisper.

Mathias nodded. "Go. I'll stay here so nobody gets suspicious."

Gilbert ruffled his hair and left.

…

Later, Mathias came back just as clueless as before; some Government people had been killed, that was about all he had to tell. Gilbert hadn't had much luck either; somewhere during the day lots of access codes had changed. He'd gotten through to the bank, but of course there was no information there about an overthrow. "I'd need a few more hours." He was tired, and wanted to go to bed. He'd try again tomorrow, if there was no real news in the lunchroom.

"Yeah. Let's give it up for now. Maybe tomorrow they'll at least be able to tell us what's happening, or what happened today. Though I'm surprised they don't want you to help."

"Whatever. Do I care? I don't care. I just – "

"Want to rescue our friends!" Mathias laughed. "I know. We'll do what we can, when this shit settles down. Remember, Tino won't forget them. Not while Oxenstierna's still there too."

Rising to stretch, Gilbert nodded. He eyed the lower bunk and then Mathias. "Want to share again?" he asked, as nonchalant as possible. The albino held his breath, hoping his friend wouldn't get all gloomy and pissed off once more.

"Sure. That's fine," the Dane replied, smiling, and Gilbert patted his hair with a happy grin.

…

_Feliks = Poland. But you, like, totally knew that.  
Elizaveta = Hungary_


	22. Staying Strong

_One hundred reviews! Thank you all so much. I hope you're still finding the story cohesive._

…

**Staying Strong.**

Thursday afternoon Lovino and Arthur wearily made their way to the refectory to see what kind of "dinner" might be on offer; it had been mostly watery oatmeal the last few days. Both of them were tired and drawn and Arthur kept stumbling as he walked. The rest of the students were not much better off. Lovino had seen Cuba punch Francis this morning: the Frenchman just took it and backed away. Things were so desperately bad that the Italian, always a pessimist, had guessed they might survive another week. Maybe two. He and Arthur had begun ignoring the security cameras to lay huddled in bed each night, holding each other and spinning elaborate fantasies of a beautiful dream world where they could be together.

He sighed. Food had taken over most of their conversations. The two of them had barely been able to make it to the bank and back today. They were so weakened! The meal pills were gone, because they'd been chewing them up, trying to get a feeling of fullness in their stomachs. They _would_ die together here, and it wouldn't be romantic at all, just fucking messy and stupid, so damn stupid that their lives, just beginning, would be cut short.

Two days ago a first-year named Peter had died. He'd gotten so desperate for food, they'd heard, that he'd tried to attack Manuel. The Chilean had struck out with a defensive punch that had sent the young student flying; his head had hit the wall of the schoolroom. Gossip said his skull had cracked on impact; whatever the cause, the younger boy hadn't arisen from his slumped position, and Manuel, nervous, had called for help. The nurse had done what she could, but Peter had died a few hours later without regaining consciousness. There had been a hasty interment and everyone had sobered up dramatically. Many of the younger students had stayed in their rooms, emerging only at mealtimes, rather than risk something similar happening. The entire staff was run ragged trying to keep the peace and stretch the minimal resources, but it was quite difficult for them. Everyone was looking for a scapegoat to blame for the lockdown.

Unfortunately the idea of getting information from Antonio's dorm room footage had come to absolute naught. The principal, seeing a completely black image, had sent Mr. Oxenstierna to the Spaniard's room to fix it, and the maintenance man had discovered that the security camera was covered with a thick cloth, obscuring any images and muffling any recorded sounds.

"How can that be?" Lovino had wondered. "How did he get away with that?" Mostly he was pissed off that he'd never thought to try it himself.

"We don't watch ev'ry room, ev'ry minute of th' day. 'S just a check. Someone c'd get away w'th that easily, giv'n the number 'f rooms 'nd th' fact that we only check rand'mly for a few minutes at a time."

Shit. Probably all their Program B business had been a waste of time. And all that time Arthur had spent in the fucking closet. Bastards.

Adnan had therefore called Antonio into the office. Talked to him about the Government, the lockdown, and all that. Antonio had said (had _said_, though there was no guarantee it was the truth, and they couldn't check it because of the lockdown) that his father had left the Government a few years ago, because he'd been upset with the direction it was taking. That he'd sold Antonio to Jones in order to keep his wife and younger children safely, since he'd lost the lucrative salary. Antonio hadn't minded going; he knew he'd land on his feet somehow, and this made everything better for the rest of the family.

_"Then why are we having this lockdown, Mr. Fernandez?" _

_"I don't know. Why would _I_ know?"_

_"You didn't notify anyone on Earth?"_

Antonio had appeared completely baffled by that question. Ultimately the principal had believed the Spaniard and let him go. "And Francis?" Lovino had asked, when the principal had finished his story. "Did you talk to him? Is it something to do with him?"

"Alas, Mr. Bonnefoy was completely motivated by greed. He was a troublemaker at home. His father wanted to send him here as an example to other Government employees, and Francis struck a deal with him. He'd enroll at this Academy as long as they gave him the bonus money. They agreed, and here he is. Claims he didn't notify anyone, either. Believe me, if he had, he'd certainly be regretting it by now."

No shit, the mercenary bastard. So they still didn't know who to blame for the damn lockdown. Now he didn't have that extra reason to hate those two, but on the other hand, Lovino was a little too weak to bother hating anyone, right now. He reached for Arthur's hand and held it gratefully, glad that he wouldn't be completely alone when the end came.

He was considering asking Arthur a very big favor – to make enough Spotlight for the two of them, to keep them happy and unconcerned as they approached their deaths – but he kept waffling on this. In his heart he wanted to be clean and aware, his last moments untainted with the haze of the drug. So he held on, and they walked together.

As they approached the refectory, Arthur's head came up. It seemed unusually loud tonight. "Riot?"

But when they came into the big, well-lit room, the reason for the noise level was obvious. _Food!_ Real food, lots and lots of it, an entire assortment of things. "Am – am I dreaming?" Arthur wondered, as they watched Vladimir cramming pieces of nearly-raw steak into his mouth. Cuba shoveled mounds of mashed potatoes onto his plate at the counter. Everyone else was similarly busy. Even Francis appeared a little less than polished as he tried to wolf down a buttered croissant; next to him, Antonio had a plate stacked high with churros, his eyes closed in bliss as he stuffed them into his mouth.

"Hurry, bastard, hurry," Lovino managed, pushing his way feverishly towards the counter.

By the time they got there all the meat was gone, and most of the vegetables, but there was plenty of bread of various types, some soup – chicken, from the looks of it – and a fresh giant bowl of mashed potatoes. Arthur took soup and potatoes. Lovino took soup and bread, and managed to find one limp tomato slice on an otherwise-denuded plate. They elbowed their way to a table and sat to stuff themselves.

"You're going to be busy cleaning up all this slop," Lovino mumbled around a mouthful of soup, using his elbow to point to the crumbs and things falling on the floor at other tables. "Pigs."

"Eh. We're just as piggy as they are," Arthur laughed, a spoonful of potatoes falling onto his lap. "Blast. But today's not my work night." He grabbed a napkin and scrubbed the food off his pants as best he could. "Why didn't you take any potatoes? They're really good tonight, and they fill you up."

"You will never catch me eating potatoes, Arthur." But then he amended this. "Maybe if they were the only things available. But since they're not – then, whatever. Do you see Adnan? Do you think we'll have an assembly?" Lovino ate the tomato slice with great delicacy, trying to savor it, although it was squashed and almost tasteless.

"Mpf." Arthur swallowed, scanning the room. "Don't see him."

"'M supposed to go to work duty tonight. Come with me." Maybe Oxenstierna would share news with them.

"Yeah." They finished eating, speaking now only of incidental things between slurps.

They must have been the last two to show up; by the time they'd finished, the refectory was nearly empty, and Vladimir's young friend Emil (who had kitchen duty on the days Arthur didn't) was beginning to carry the dirty dishes back to the dishwasher. The fanged bastard stayed alone at his table, waiting, delicately licking a drop of blood from the side of his mouth.

"Come on," Lovino urged, grabbing his bag. "Let's go."

"Hang on. No reason to make more work for the kitchen staff." Arthur laughed again. Lovino hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of Arthur's laughter! His heart now felt light and optimistic; he was so relieved that he hadn't mentioned Spotlight to him.

They carried their plates to the counter for Emil to deal with. After waving to the younger boy and then Vladimir, they left the room to head calmly to the docking and maintenance area, smiling in anticipation, but not yet discussing this.

Mr. Oxenstierna was in the docking area, pacing. They'd never seen the laid-back maintenance man so agitated. "Sir?"

"A c'mplete mess. Lockdown lift'd late l'st night. Didn't know 'bout it unt'l th's morning. Two teachers took a pod back t'Earth; well, chemistry teacher 'n the nurse. Too frighten'd to stick 'round."

"We were wondering if we could – "

But Oxenstierna didn't let Arthur finish. "Went t'lunch. Someone stole t'other small pod while I w's gone. Sadik's try'ng to find out who't was."

Lovino's heart plummeted. "Oh," he realized. "Two pods gone: that means there are no functioning pods left. Dammit!"

"'N the second pod, th' navigation syst'm was still faulty. Hadn't had a chance t'work on it. Don't know who took it, don't know where they're going, and don't know 'f he, or they, w'll make it." Oxenstierna looked quite disturbed. Well, shit, yeah; if the life of an escaped student was at stake, and it was the Swede's faulty pod that killed him – Lovino didn't want to think about it.

Although he'd probably get in trouble more about the loss of the fucking pod, and not the loss of the bastard student, whoever it was.

"So we're stuck again," Arthur growled.

"Better off than we were this morning. At least now we have food. Do we know what it was all about?"

Oxenstierna shook his head. "Not yet." His head snapped up. "Oh. F'rgot. Packages for you boys in th' supply pods. Here." He walked to a pile of packages in the corner and removed two; the one he handed Lovino was from the place that shipped the shortbread cookies. Well, that was all right; they could treat themselves after suffering for so long. Arthur's package was slimmer, like a book or magazine.

"Will we be able to go?" Lovino now whispered to the maintenance man. "When a pod comes back?"

"Don't know. By now th'coordinates f'r Persephone have changed, 'n I don't have'm yet. Sent notice t'Tino t'send me the word. Then y'can go, unless we have 'nother probl'm."

"Understood," Lovino replied; Arthur was staring at his parcel and turning it over and over in his hands. "Come on; let's go back to the room." Then he remembered he was supposed to be at work duty. "Or, well, you can go; I'll be back when I finish my work."

But Oxenstierna put out a reassuring hand to Lovino's shoulder. "Dn't worry about it. Can't do much. Still don't have th' parts for th'big pod, and ev'rything else is working fine. Take th' night off. Relax. Might hear fr'm Tino, now that th' lockdown's been lifted. I'll let y'know."

"Okay. Thank you." Packages in hand, the boys left the docking area.

"What time is it?" Arthur wondered. "Do we have time to go deposit all that money in the bank again? To flag Gilbert?"

Lovino checked his watch. "Shit. Yes. Let's go get the bank drafts." They broke into a run and headed for their room.

…

By the time they got back – after depositing all eighteen thousand dollars back into the account, and forcing some polite chat with the very relieved Mr. Laurinaitis – they'd forgotten about the parcels. "Oh, right. Want a cookie?" Lovino ripped the packaging off his.

But Arthur wasn't listening. "A – a letter? F-from my father?" He turned an envelope over and over in his hands, its outer wrapping now lying discarded on the floor. "He never writes to me. Not even sat-mail. Something must be bloody wrong, for him to send a paper letter."

Lovino felt concerned for his friend, but that was nothing compared to the icy chill that gripped his heart when he saw a handwritten letter fall out of his own package. In his father's handwriting. "Wh- wha – " He had to sit down, and fumbled the letter a few times trying to retrieve it from the floor. The package of cookies spilled all over the bed and the floor, but this almost didn't register. "Arthur – "

"I'm nervous about this."

"N-no shit. Will you s-sit with me, and we can read together?" He swept the fallen cookies aside.

Arthur swallowed and nodded. "Always together," he murmured, and they sat on Lovino's bed, leaning against each other, before opening the letters from their fathers.

…

_Dear Son,_ Lovino read, and despite his panic he snorted; his stupid father couldn't even address him by his damn name! Maybe he'd forgotten it, the heartless bastard.

_Dear Son,_

_By the time you read this I will either be dead, or in self-imposed exile. A shakeup is coming to our world. Since this is the last time I'll be in touch with you, I thought it was time for some honest explanations. Please bear with me and read this whole letter._

The last time he'd be in touch? Not that Lovino would miss the fucker, but just what the hell was he talking about? He read on, curious now.

_When I was your age, and more impressionable, I desperately wanted to work for the Government in order to improve things in the world. Back then, people actually cared. Quality of life was higher, and there was not so much suspicion everywhere._

_I attended school in Paris, a boys' school similar to your academy. And while I was there, I fell in love with someone, a beautiful blond American student. He loved me, too, and we made all sorts of rash vows to stay together all our lives, vows to work together for the common good._

_But as time went on I began to see that I would never achieve my hope of a seat in the Government with a man as my life partner. The 'proper' public image has always been the two-parent household, with laughing children in the suburban yard, not two childless men flaunting their love in the media._

_I sacrificed him, son. I abandoned my lover to pursue some acceptable woman – although I knew by then that I was not heterosexual – and married your mother to help fulfill my ambition. Small wonder, then, that when she died in giving birth to you I felt a traitor to my lover. I'd severed all ties with him, and for what? A baby and widowerhood. Yes, I obtained my Government seat, but at the cost of my own personal integrity._

_Before you were even born I'd realized what a mistake I'd made, but of course she was pregnant by then, and there was nothing an honorable man could do except go forward. For a long time I could not bear to look at you. Then, when I could, I found myself unwilling to see her in you, to remember what I'd done to her, to him, to you. _

_I tried contacting my lover again, to beg his forgiveness, but he had gone, and I never heard from him again. I was twenty-four at that point and felt that my life was a complete shambles. Disinterested in everything around me, I let the burgeoning Government policies dictate our lives, and so I became more and more entrenched, and less attentive to you. Over time, I began to believe those policies, and support them. And I eventually shipped you off to the Jones Academy so that I wouldn't need to see the reproach of your mother's eyes staring at me every day. You are the tangible reminder of my youthful stupidity, and I resented you for it. _

_Parents are offered significant cash bonuses to send their children offworld; this is to help ease the population pressure. Yes, I took the money, though I didn't need it. I did my best to warm up to you last summer, knowing our time together would be necessarily short, but too much time has passed. I don't think that you and I can ever be more than familiar strangers to each other, by now. Under the terms of your education agreement, you may not return to Earth to settle after your graduation. You must find somewhere offworld to live. Make a note of that._

_A movement has been growing to overturn the Government. This Resistance thinks we do not know about it, but we have known for some time. It didn't concern me much._

_During the spring of your first year at Jones, I was chosen to give a talk extolling the school's virtues to a group of interested parents. I found myself drawn to one of the fathers who attended the meeting. A widower himself, he was considering sending his son to school there, and over drinks after the talk we discussed the bonus structure and what I knew of the place._

_Of course I was intrigued by him. Although he showed no interest in me beyond casual acquaintanceship, I found myself extending my stay in London for two weeks._

_During that time we became lovers._

Lovino let out a snort and glanced at Arthur, bent over his own letter. His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he were fiercely concentrating, and the hand holding the paper shook. Lovino touched his hand briefly. "Nh," Arthur grunted, but didn't raise his head; the Italian went back to his own letter.

_We have been together ever since. But it was not until six weeks ago that he confessed to me that he is an agent of this Resistance. He sent his son to Jones Academy to keep him out of the line of fire, to keep him safe when the shit hit the fan._

This vulgar phrase in the middle of the letter made Lovino stop again; after a deep breath, he continued.

_There was to be – by the time you read this there _will have been_ – a coup directed at taking power from the existing Government and putting it in the hands of the Resistance. All of the top officials – myself included – had been targeted for termination by a Resistance member._

_My new lover had been assigned to execute me. He suspects he was chosen in order to test his loyalty to the cause. Rather than following through with his orders, he told me of this, and we have made plans to escape. We will disappear from the public eye together. Not to Mars – he does not wish to endanger his son – but somewhere that we will not be associated with you, so that you are not tarred with the brush that has tainted me as a Government official, so that his son is not branded the son of a traitor. For if the Resistance fails, he is a traitor to the Government; if the Resistance wins, he is a traitor to their cause for failing in this last, most desperate mission._

_With my influence I managed to get your dome sealed off from the rest of the solar system. We had rumors of seditious activity centering on your Academy; that was all the excuse I needed. I took this action both to divert suspicion from myself, and to protect you and my lover's son from interference – by the Government _or_ the Resistance – until the coup was over. _

_If you're reading this letter, the seal has been lifted, and you are on your own. You will need to make your own life decisions. Choose well. If I am not killed, I will have to remain in exile for quite some time, and will not see you again. The money I was paid to send you to Mars was deposited in an Earth account in your name, and has been earning interest the last few years. You may withdraw it from our usual bank. Your remaining tuition to Jones Academy is also paid in full._

_All of our other possessions I have converted to more portable wealth. I have no fear of starvation._

_I have purposely avoided naming my lover or his son in this letter._

_I wish you well, my son, and hope you understand me better now. _

His father had not signed the letter. Lovino blew out a huge breath: so many things made sense to him now. Stupid, backwards sense, but sense nonetheless. He scanned it again, picking out phrases like "traitor," "youthful stupidity," and "resented you," and had to close his eyes for a moment. Dammit, he hated that selfish bastard, hated him even more now. If he ever did see the fucker again, he'd kill him.

And – Arthur was from London, and Arthur had a letter in his hand. Lovino thought about fate again, as he watched his beloved friend read.

As the blond felt Lovino's eyes on him, he looked up, trembling, and held the letter out. "R-read it?"

Lovino swapped letters with him, and this is what he read.

_Arthur,_

_I've always been so proud of you. Our life has been a bitch since your mother ran off, but we've managed to muddle through somehow. It hasn't been easy, but you've been a trooper and I'm still proud of you._

_The world is in a pretty shitty place right now. It's been getting worse over time. For a long time I ignored this, since it didn't affect us directly. But then my conscience started pestering me about it and I knew I had to step up and take action, to make it a better place for you and others after you._

_I joined this underground agency called the Resistance. A group of freedom fighters who wanted to take down the entire Government and start over. At first it was a bunch of bullshit; these people would sit around and have meetings over coffee and cake, and bitch about the Government, and that was about it. Eventually I made my way up high enough to meet the local organizers and they had a very different approach from the coffee-swilling scunners in our sector. What they said made sense. They were happy to meet me, probably since I wasn't on a mental level with those bloody idiots, and I got some real missions to do, and did them well. I won't tell you about them._

_The Government bonuses for sending children offworld are pretty high. That's not why I sent you to the Jones Academy, though. When I caught you making and selling drugs I got very nervous. I didn't want you arrested! I also realized that you would make an excellent hostage, either for the Government, if they found out I was part of the Resistance, or from my own group, if they thought I wasn't pulling my weight. So I sent you to Jones to keep you safe._

Although Lovino had remained dry-eyed while reading his own bastard father's letter, this last sentence brought tears to his eyes; he bit his finger to stop from cursing aloud. Arthur's father had casually sent him to Jones, where his son had suffered so much that he'd attempted to kill himself! He wondered whether the man would ever know about that, and vowed to make his friend so happy that the entire memory would fade. Then he went back to reading the letter, shifting closer to Arthur.

_At the orientation meeting for the school I met a very sexy bloke. I'd never thought about men as sex partners before, but after that I did. And he was a considerate lover, and became a good friend. I fell in love, and he fell for me. He didn't know that I was part of the Resistance, but I knew he was Government._

_This year a revolution is planned. I was selected for a special mission. It was supposed to start with the assassination of a bunch of Government bigshots. They assigned me to kill him. I can't do it, Arthur. I've already given you up, for better or worse, and I can't lose him too. There may come a point in your life where you have to decide between your heart and your head, and I hope you can understand why I chose my heart._

_If the Resistance knew I'd made this decision they'd terminate me. He and I have decided to run for it. We're going underground together, and I won't contact you after this. I spent all the bonus money from enrolling you at Jones, so I have nothing left to leave you but memories. At least you've been safely offworld while all this revolution garbage is happening on Earth. I suggest you stay away. If the Resistance wins, you might be all right, but if they fail, you'd be in danger. The Government contract I signed, when I took the money, stated that you could not return to Earth._

_Be strong. __No matter what happens to you__, stay strong and optimistic. Things will work out for the best. Find someone to love, Arthur, and hold onto that person with all your might. Stand together for the things you believe in, and protect each other. _

_Good luck with your life._

This letter too was unsigned. Lovino let it drop. "Fuck," he said, pressing his fingers into his eye sockets.

"Please don't ever leave me," Arthur begged him in a whisper, just before the door to their room slid back.

"What? What?" Lovino jumped off the bed; Arthur grabbed the letters and crumpled them in his fist.

Principal Adnan stood in the doorway, his hands in the air, with two men in dark coats behind him. "These are the boys," he murmured, gesturing into the room.

They all walked in. The coats had the recognizable rectangular Government insignia over the breast pocket, two horizontal red bands separated by a field of blank white. Lovino's heart began thumping painfully at the sight of it. Now what the fuck?

Both men wore glasses, and the glint of the room's artificial light on the lenses gave them a very sinister, almost robotic, appearance. The blond man held a small and threatening police-grade stunner aimed at Lovino; the taller, dark-haired man trained his on the principal. "Arthur Kirkland? Lovino Vargas?" he barked out.

Without waiting for confirmation the blond man spoke in a soft hiss. "Pack your things. You belong to us, now."

…

_This would be the end of Volume 2._

_Emil = Iceland  
Peter = Sealand  
Lovi's father = Rome  
Arthur's father = Scotland (fan-created)_


	23. Tricky Situations

**Tricky Situations.**

The five of them walked down the corridor: he and Lovino in front, then the Government men (Arthur could only assume they were still holding the stunners trained on them), and presumably Adnan bringing up the rear. A few students in the hallway saw the procession approach and ducked frantically out of sight, into dorm rooms, bathrooms, stairwells.

Arthur was infuriated. He didn't even know what to focus on: the git(s) who had stolen the pod this afternoon, preventing an earlier escape? His bloody father, and Lovino's, who were probably the source of this sudden Government interest? Or Adnan, whom they'd trusted, who had led these men right to them? He ground his teeth. Couldn't the wanker have stalled them? Misdirected them?

He was worried about Lovino, too. Knowing his friend's temper as well as he did, he was very afraid the Italian would start throwing punches, or cursing, or something to antagonize these men and make the situation worse. He darted a peek at him as they walked.

Whew. Rather than building up a head of steam, as he'd expected, Lovino was simply plodding along down the corridor, almost weakly. Well, it was true, they had only had one semi-good meal in the last week. Maybe the brunet wasn't strong enough to try anything. Arthur really wanted to show him some support – after all, they'd promised each other to always stay together, and he didn't want Lovino giving up hope. There might yet be some way out of this. But he didn't want to reach out to him in front of the Government men. What if they got separated and taken to different places? Arthur stumbled as that occurred to him.

What the hell was happening to them? Where _were_ they being taken? And why? Because of their sodding fathers? Hah. Yes, his father really was a bastard, he had to admit it now. Selfish and careless, leaving Arthur alone in the world to go swanning around with Lovino's rich dad. He made a mental vow that if they ever got out of this situation, he and Lovino would work towards having the best life anyone ever had. Just to spite the tossers. Now Arthur understood how the two of them had ended up roommates. Not fate. Just some old nasty bloke pulling strings so his lover's son would end up rooming with his own.

On the other hand, he didn't give a damn _why_ they'd ended up rooming together. He was still grateful that they had.

At least the Government men had let them pack their bags before leaving. Lovino had his diary box and didn't have to worry about it falling into the wrong hands. Arthur sighed. They'd been better off two hours ago, thinking themselves on the brink of death by starvation! "Bollocks," he muttered; Lovino looked at him nervously, and he felt something poke him in the back.

Oh, no. If that man shot him with the stunner, they'd both be in deep shit. Deeper. He shook his head at Lovino, trying to give a supportive smile, but he couldn't do any better than a weak grimace.

Eventually the little parade reached the lobby. "Which way back to the dock?" the dark-haired man barked to Adnan, who stepped in front to lead the way. With the Government men still wielding the weapons behind them, Arthur and Lovino had no choice but to follow.

When they reached the dock, the still-harassed Oxenstierna was off to the side, his hair all awry; looked like he shared Gilbert's habit of running his hands through it when frustrated.

Thinking of Gilbert brought a fresh wave of anger through the mute Arthur, who now wondered whether their friends would ever learn what had happened to them, or if they'd just be considered "missing – presumed dead." He wondered whether they could now attack and fight off the Government men. Even if Adnan got stunned, that would still leave him, Lovino, and Oxenstierna to fight.

But for what? He didn't know what to do with a bloody pod, anyway, and Oxenstierna didn't have the codes for Persephone yet. And it would definitely make things worse. What if he got stunned? Lovino and Oxenstierna, weakened from weeks under the lockdown, couldn't fight these two glossy and well-fed Government bastards. Arthur sighed again. They'd just have to go along, for now. Reassess the situation when they got to – to wherever they were being taken.

A black pod with the Government insignia – a four-man pod – stood at the ready. "Get in, please," the blond man said quietly, poking Lovino in the back.

Arthur saw his friend close his eyes, but the Italian didn't move. The Brit tugged at his hand, but he shook his head _no._

"Please, Mr. Vargas," Adnan begged. "Don't resist them. It truly is for your own good."

"My own good_?_" Lovino yelled, bristling, dropping his bag. "My own _good_?" He yanked his hand out of Arthur's, spinning in place to face the principal.

Arthur immediately leaped to grab him, pinning his arms against his sides before the brunet could throw a punch at someone. "Shh. Please don't make it worse," he said quietly, but loud enough for them all to hear. _"Please."_ He squeezed a little tighter, as a warning, as support.

The four men stood waiting while Lovino settled. He let out a deep breath, then another, nodding to Arthur. "Let's get in."

Arthur gave him a wobbly smile and they began to climb into the pod with their bags. Oxenstierna, understandably concerned, rested a hand briefly on Lovino's shoulder. "Be strong," he said clearly, surprising both the boys. Lovino blinked an acknowledgement.

The two of them took the rear seats, so the Government men could work the controls. They stowed their bags and strapped themselves down with shock webbing, watching the men absently pocket the stunners and climb into the front seats. "Thank you for your cooperation," the dark-haired man told Adnan. "We'll be in touch."

The blond bloke merely nodded at Oxenstierna. Arthur couldn't bring himself to say anything to either of the staff members; he was far too upset and too concerned about Lovino's anger.

When the pod door closed, he instantly felt the lurch of the launch. This was it, then. No way out. He took his friend's hand again.

"Thank _God_ that's over," the dark man said, taking his glasses off and wiping them on his sleeve.

"Please be quiet a moment." The other, his voice calm, was fiddling with the controls.

The brunet replaced his glasses and spun his front seat around to face Arthur and Lovino. "Are you boys aware of what is going on around here?" His clipped voice boomed out in the small area.

But to their astonishment the blond man started laughing and looked up from his work. "Don't be so dramatic, Roderich. Just tell them what's going on." He spun his seat around too, since the pod was now on its way, and smiled at the two students. "My name is Matthew Williams, and this is Roderich Edelstein. We're with the Resistance." He smiled shyly and offered his hand.

"The _Resistance?_ You fucking _bastards_!" Lovino erupted, slapping the proffered hand away. He tried to leap up in anger, but the webbing restrained him. "How the hell could you scare us like that?"

Arthur grabbed his upper arm and he sobered immediately. Oh, _shit,_ the blond thought. They actually were from the Government, weren't they, and just testing them? In that case Lovino had just dug his own grave, and probably Arthur's, too. He took his friend's hand in his again, this time in a death grip. Lovino must have been thinking along the same lines; he dropped his gaze to his knees and didn't apologize for his outburst.

But the dark man – Edelstein – spoke calmly. "We understand that you were frightened. But other than Berwald and Sadik, we don't know who at your school is a Resistance sympathizer, and who might be linked to the old Government. We didn't have time to sit around and chat with them tonight to find out. We didn't want anyone learning our actual mission." He smiled at Lovino, who had finally dared to look up again.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing, though? Where are you taking us? And why us?"

"The _old_ Government?" Arthur added. So this overthrow thing had been successful?

"We have a few hours," Williams pointed out. "Might as well tell them everything, Rod."

"Don't call me 'Rod.'" Edelstein sniffed; Williams laughed at him.

Arthur began to relax. His eyes flicked from one man to the other, taking in the dark coats, the badges. "A disguise? Where'd you get the pod?"

"We have plenty of pods. We painted the Government insignia on this one for undercover work."

Lovino still seemed pretty pissed off, but Arthur could tell he was interested in what these men had to say. "Why us? Why now?"

"May I call you Lovino?" Edelstein asked.

"And you can call us Matthew and Rod."

"Don't call me 'Rod'!"

"Roderich, then," Matthew laughed again. "May we?"

"Sure, bastards, just _talk_, dammit!"

"What?" Roderich visibly drew back from that.

"It's just the way he talks," Arthur explained. "Just let him be." He took Lovino's hand, less frantically than before, and asked one more time. "Please explain?"

Matthew reached out a hand and patted Arthur's knee. "Relax. We would have come for you anyway; Berwald had sent notification that you wanted to go to Persephone, back when he sent us your friends."

"You're taking us to _Persephone_?" Lovino croaked out.

"Yes, we are. Please don't interrupt."

Huh. This Roderich was one uptight git. Arthur was happy to see Lovino shut his mouth, though.

"Your friends have been very helpful to us, and also very concerned for you, especially when we learned of this trouble where they sealed off your dome. Tino had plans to send for you right away, as soon as we could get into the dome."

"Because of Gilbert? Or because of what Mr. Oxenstierna said?" Arthur wondered.

"A bit of both. When Berwald told us that you had seen him ship your friends off, we realized it might be dangerous to have you roaming around Jones and talking to everyone about it. The plan was to pull you out of there immediately, mostly to protect ourselves."

"Understandable."

"But when this dome shutdown happened, we were frantic. Tino, of course, was worried about Berwald, but your friends could only think of you."

"They're all right?" Arthur interrupted. "Gilbert and Mathias? They're on Persephone?"

Matthew smiled. "They're fine, but quite worried about you. They kept to themselves for a while, but once we understood that the revolution had been successful, they could only speak of rescuing you. They've been helping us a lot on the ship since then."

Squeezing Lovino's hand in warning, Arthur asked, "Revolution?" He realized that, sealed under the dome as they'd been, they wouldn't be expected to know about any revolution. He decided to play it very dumb, and hoped Lovino would too. "You said 'old Government'?"

"We'll get to that. One thing at a time."

He was relieved. "What about this bloody lockdown?" He knew how it had started, of course. Arthur had the two letters stuffed into the bottom of his duffel, and definitely wanted to talk about this with his friend – but not in front of strangers, no matter how sympathetic they seemed to be.

"It's over thanks to Gilbert, actually," Matthew said, blushing.

"No, start at the beginning." Roderich cleared his throat. "Someone in the government shut down external access to your dome. We still don't know why, or who."

Arthur breathed more easily at that.

"But," the dark-haired man continued, "we – mostly Gilbert, I'm forced to admit – have been working diligently to get into the systems to unlock it." He and Matthew took turns explaining more about the Resistance's recent plans, the overthrow, and its aftermath.

This took the better part of an hour; during that time Roderich unearthed some bottles of drinking water to pass around. "We were successful, for the most part, but many of the Government systems were still in place, such as your dome lockdown – good choice of word, by the way – and it was Gilbert who finally 'hacked' in and unlocked it." The slang term sounded amusing, uttered distastefully in his haughty tone.

"I love that boy," Arthur grinned.

"Don't tell him that, idiot. You know we'll never hear the end of it."

Both the others snorted at that. "Isn't that the truth," Roderich scoffed. Hah. Sounded like they knew Gilbert pretty well already.

Matthew returned to the discussion. "The Resistance has been in charge of running things on Earth for about six days now, but this was the earliest we could get the dome unlocked, get you out of there."

"Well, fuck, it was an ass-backwards way of doing it, bastards! You scared the shit out of us, and probably everyone else, too! Why didn't you say something when we were in the room together? Nobody would have overheard." Lovino's face was red and angry.

"Would you have been able to behave like captives, if you knew you were getting taken to Persephone? We didn't want everyone to know, remember?" The scowling Roderich's glasses glinted coldly in the interior lights.

"I have a question, though," the Brit asked. "Why _didn't_ you want them to know? What about all the other students at Jones? Mr. Oxenstierna told Lovino that he always tried to work to rescue them. If that's the case, why was this so secret? And now that your overthrow was successful, what will happen? What about the 'don't return to Earth' laws?"

"This is a very good point," Roderich acknowledged. "But today our priority was rescuing you, as a sort of payback to Gilbert, and we didn't want a bunch of students panicking and begging us to take them away. We know it had to be frightening during that lockdown. We _know _people will want to get away. We just had to prioritize."

Matthew cleared his throat. "The population situation on Earth is still going to be bad, no matter who's running things. I'm not sure what the higher-ups plan to do about it, but I do know that Tino is planning to offer a home on Persephone to everyone at Jones who wants it, as soon as the ship gets closer to Mars and we can get people back and forth easier. He has a special consideration for students sent there. "

"I know it. Mr. Oxenstierna told me." Lovino nodded. "What about Persephone, though? Won't it be overcrowded, if they take all those bastards?"

"It's a very big ship," Matthew pointed out. "We're not using more than about forty percent of its capacity. Now that we can get supplies and run it above the radar, as it were, it should be easily able to handle a much larger influx of people."

Both the students nodded. So…from "trapped on Mars with a bunch of criminals," Arthur and his friends would now be "trapped on a spaceship with a gigantic bunch of strangers." Blast. But he could think about that later; there was nothing to be done about it now. "Okay. Thanks."

Here he noticed that Matthew had turned back to the controls; Roderich, after watching the two of them for another minute, turned back also. Maybe he wanted to give them some privacy? The two students – ex-students, now, Arthur supposed, because he never planned to set foot on Mars again – looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but of course both of them were still too suspicious to talk in front of these new people.

"How much longer until we arrive?" he wondered.

"About another hour. I suspect your friends will be waiting for us at the dock."

Lovino nodded. "Good enough, bastards. Thanks." The friends leaned back in the pod seats to think about everything they'd learned.

…

Lovino had fallen into a doze but was jerked awake by the pod touching down. "Dammit," he mumbled, but nobody commented.

"Wake up, please," Roderich's aristocratic voice commanded.

Arthur sat and stretched. "We're here? Sorry I fell asleep."

"It's not a problem." Matthew extended a hand to unclip Arthur's webbing with a shy smile. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to rest soon."

"Good, because I'm fucking exhausted." Lovino ran a hand through his hair, but then he took a moment to fix it. He didn't want to be disheveled when they met all these new bastards. He was kind of nervous as the pod door opened. A lot of new people – young people – with no reasons to be hostile? How would they react? How would _he_ react?

And – and what if this was all a setup? What if these bastards really were Government men? He panicked again, but Arthur was behind him, waiting to get out, and he had to move.

Roderich, then Matthew, exited the pod. Lovino was next. Before he even stepped onto the floor of the dock, a loud "Kesesese!" rang through the air, and he was swept off his feet by a laughing, hugging Gilbert, who spun him around.

Thank _God._ They were together again. He nearly fainted in Gilbert's arms with the relief of it. "Get off me, you brilliant, lovable bastard," he said with a grin. What the hell. Just this once, he could be nice.

"Hey, git," Arthur said, sounding so nonchalant that even Lovino laughed. "Where's Mathias?" He punched Gilbert in the arm.

"Right here," the deep Danish voice boomed out, as he crossed the floor. "Hey! It's _so good_ to see you!"

"No shit." Lovino allowed the Dane to hug him while Gilbert and Arthur stood there grinning at each other like fools; Mathias then embraced the Brit.

"Seriously, it's awesome that you're finally here and safe!" Gilbert nodded repeatedly. "_Awesome_."

"Gilbert, please do not stand around the dock socializing." Man, that Roderich really had a stick up his ass.

"Yes, sir," the albino said cheekily, taking Arthur by the hand and leading them off the dock. "Come on, I want to introduce you to Tino."

"Thank you!" Arthur remembered to call back to Matthew and Roderich. Matthew grinned and waved, but Roderich just gave a terse nod of the head.

"Uptight _bastard_," Lovino laughed under his breath. But they were _here!_ On Persephone! His neck hurt as he turned and looked at everything around them; there were some people in the distance who turned to watch and wave, and – and he waved; he might as well, and this was all so new!

"This is Tino," Gilbert said, gesturing towards a slight blond man by the door.

He shook Lovino's hand, then Arthur's, with a smile. "We're so happy to finally have you safe here," he said. "We've all been so worried about the two of you."

It sounded so sincere that the brunet felt a lump in his throat. A place where he was welcome? The only people who knew him here were Mathias and Gilbert, and yet everyone was being friendly and nice already. Complete strangers had come to rescue them, just because their friends had wanted them to be safe. Lovino blinked rapidly a few times and growled out, "Thanks, ba—thanks."

All three of his friends seemed to realize how he was feeling. "We, ah, we've had a very stressful day," Arthur said hurriedly, "_really_ stressful. Is –is there someplace where we can rest? We're very grateful, and would like to speak with you and learn about Persephone, but – "

"Yes, of course," Tino replied kindly. "Gilbert – Mathias? Why don't you show them to the room we prepared for them? It's right next to theirs," he explained to the newcomers.

"Kesesese! Yes, come on, come on. We have a ton of shit to talk about," Gilbert said, this time pulling Lovino along by the hand.

"Thank you again," he heard Arthur say behind him, as he hurried to keep up.

…

"We're really safe?" was the first thing Lovino asked his friends when the door had shut behind them. Arthur was busy poking around the little room, examining things, having dropped his bag right inside the door.

Mathias and Gilbert sat on the lower bunk. "We're really safe."

"And it's so good to see you guys!" Gilbert blew Lovino a kiss, and he grinned wryly in response.

"Oh!" Arthur said, as if remembering something, and scooted over to Mathias. He gave Lovino a funny look – what the fuck for? – and then leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the Dane's cheek.

"What? What?" Gilbert yelled. But Lovino was smiling at his friends; he didn't give a flying fuck if Arthur wanted to kiss Mathias.

The Dane blushed to the roots of his hair. "Wh-what the hell was that for?" He cleared his throat, staring up at the Brit.

"Killing Braginsky," Arthur whispered, loud enough for Gilbert to hear it too. He hugged his tall, strong friend. "Thank you for that."

Mathias now seemed a little more at ease, and he hugged back. "No problem at all. It was really thanks to your – your Spotlight that I was able to do it."

"Tell me?" Arthur pulled out the other chair at the tiny table and sat in it while Mathias explained. Lovino hoped they wouldn't get into a discussion about Arthur and his treatment at Braginsky's hands, but everyone seemed to sense that was the issue, and no one brought it up. And Mathias didn't get too detailed about the blood eagle, so nobody seemed to be queasy. Good.

"Bastards," he finally interrupted, once the story was nearly done. "Talk. Tell us everything."

"You too, though," Gilbert said. "We were so damn worried!"

"Before we start some big powwow, can I lie down on the bed and you gits sit somewhere else? I'm _so tired_," Arthur moaned.

"Oh! Sure. Here, you lie down, too, Lovino. You're probably pretty beat too. And, uh, we're in the room right next door" – Mathias pointed – "so if you fall asleep and we get bored, you can find us there when you wake up. Okay? Whenever you're ready, we can go eat, and meet people, and stuff." He got off the bed and Lovino lay down next to Arthur.

"No fucking security cameras here?"

"Awesomely not."

"Great." He grinned. "Spill, bastards. We're dying to hear."

Gilbert and Mathias were dying to tell.

The four friends talked for a very long time, with detailed explanations on both sides, and eventually Arthur – and then Lovino – did fall asleep. Their friends tiptoed out of the tiny room and back to their own, to let them finally relax, here in the safe haven of Persephone.

…

_Matthew = Canada  
__Roderich = Austria_

_I made the Government flag red and white to match both of their flags. _


	24. Treading Carefully

**Treading Carefully.**

Arthur awoke in the unfamiliar bed, instantly aware of his surroundings. Lovino slept beside him, his mouth slightly open and a dainty snore issuing forth. The blond smiled at that, and tried to look around the room without disturbing him. It was faintly lit, but he couldn't see much. He wondered how long they'd been asleep. He did feel refreshed.

Rolling slowly onto his back, Arthur considered everything that had happened to them since the last time they'd slept. What a bloody whirlwind. He really hoped that they were safe now, that things would settle down and they could all have a nice, boring life together, with no parental interruptions, no threats of the Government, nothing like that. Though it might be difficult to adjust to life here, he admitted to himself. He wondered what Gilbert and Mathias had ever wanted to do with their lives. He himself hadn't ever really considered anything, other than the recent plan of doing landscape work on Earth, with Lovino. And that had been a sort of "nothing better to do" option. Maybe there was something better. They'd have to talk to their friends about it. Maybe by brainstorming the four of them could come up with something interesting, something actually fun that they could all do together! They did have all that money now. Maybe they wouldn't even need to work. Hah! But then what would they do with themselves?

One of those chaps – Roderich or Matthew – had mentioned that Persephone was being moved closer to Mars, to take on the students that wanted to live here. He wondered how close they were by now. Whether anyone else from school was here yet. Then Arthur wondered whether they'd meant "just the students." Maybe some of the blasted teachers were going to come live here? What about townspeople? The only one he knew at all well was the bank man, Mr. Laurinaitis. Arthur wondered whether any of those adults would be offered a home on Persephone.

And then too, if everyone left Mars – or at least the dome that Jones was under – what would happen to the development, the school, the town? Maybe it would become like the place on Triton that Gilbert had found for them, just an abandoned shell of a town, with no maintenance and no people. He shuddered. That would be kind of creepy, but on the other hand, the place wouldn't be so bad if it was completely empty. Heh; they should get everyone else to leave, and then the four of them could go back there.

No. None of his friends would want to go back there, people or no people.

Arthur's eyes flicked back to Lovino. Somehow, he knew, all three of them – himself, Mathias, and the albino – would defer to Lovino's choices about the future. Lovino was the one who had brought them all together, in a twisted kind of way, and they all cared for him. He – he was kind of the boss, Arthur thought. Pfft.

His friend poked him. "What are you snorting about, idiot?"

"Oh. Sorry, did I wake you?" He rolled on his side to face Lovino in the semidarkness.

"Not really. I was just laying here thinking about everything."

"Me too. Do you think we're really safe?"

"I – I don't know." Lovino's voice was quiet, almost furtive. "I mean, everything they have told us checks out. You know? They brought us to our friends, and they seem happy and relieved, and that Tino bastard was – was pleasant enough. So, it all _seems_ like it's aboveboard and whatever. But you know me. I can't help thinking this might be some elaborate cover-up."

"But Gilbert and Mathias wouldn't go along with it, would they?"

"Maybe they don't know about it." Lovino bit his lip.

"I've been trying to think about what we should do now." Arthur fiddled with the blanket underneath them.

"Have a shower! I feel disgusting. Have a shower, and then talk to the bastards, and then _eat_."

"Yes, yes, but that wasn't what I meant. I meant about our lives. What the hell do we do now? Find jobs on Persephone? Doing what? I mean, you could do maintenance, I guess, and I can probably work in the kitchens or do grunt work like Mathias has been doing, but is that really what we want to do forever? Or do we go back to Earth? And if we do, then what?"

"I still want to be alone," Lovino grumbled. "You – you've been so supportive of me, and so have the other two idiots, but I hate the idea of living on this dumb spaceship for the rest of our lives, with a huge bunch of bastards we don't know."

"I know," Arthur told him softly. "But we would get to know them eventually, you realize."

"Yeah, yeah. But what if they're all like the idiots at school?"

"Let's not think about that now. I think we really are safe. Mr. Oxenstierna and Tino would need to be mighty devious, to do all this as part of some Government cover-up. Okay?"

Lovino leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Yes. Thanks." He stretched again and looked around the room. "No security cameras," he laughed. "Too bad I feel so filthy. I know what I'd want to do."

"Ugh. Save that for later. Come on, let's get up and ask the other gits where to get stuff done."

"Right."

…

The squeaky-clean Arthur was a little nervous as their friends led them to the lunchroom to eat. He was starving, yes, but he was also worried about how Lovino would react to meeting a "huge bunch of bastards" all at once. Neither of them was good with these social pleasantries, but he didn't want to start off on the wrong foot, or make Mathias and Gilbert look bad.

He'd tried to take Lovino's hand, but his friend wouldn't let him. Arthur was _really_ nervous. The four of them entered the lunchroom, which was moderately empty at this hour of the morning. Some people looked up and smiled, and –

"Dammit! It was you, you fuckers? You took the goddamned pod? You _fuckers!_" Lovino leaped on Manuel, who had been drinking coffee at a table. The Chilean rolled off the bench and tried to punch Lovino in the face; they fell to the floor.

"_Maricón culiao_," Manuel muttered, struggling with the fuming Lovino, who was cursing in Italian. But other than rolling around and yelling, they didn't seem to be doing much harm. Manuel rolled into a bench and the bag on top of it fell over, and someone squealed.

Despite this ruckus, Arthur grinned. There wasn't much room for them to fight, and he knew Lovino needed to work off some steam. If Manuel and Martín – who was smiling and calmly eating a bagel – had stolen that other pod, then yeah, Lovino had every right to be pissed off.

Other people, though – Persephone people – drew back, staring in astonishment, and some tall blond chap came over to them. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

Gilbert laughed. "Nah. Lovino's wanted to pound the shit out of Manuel for a long time."

"If it gets out of control I'll step in," Mathias offered. "But they're not accomplishing much."

But the tall guy was scowling at this irreverence. He turned to Martín, since Lovino's friends were just standing by and watching the two fighters roll around and curse at each other. "Can't _you_ stop them? We can't have this kind of behavior on this ship!" he bellowed, when Martín failed to respond.

Mathias shrugged and yanked Manuel up by the back of his shirt. "Fuck," the Chilean muttered, dangling in the air once again. Lovino stood up and backed away, straightening his clothes and just now seeming aware of the eyes of all the people in the room on him.

The Dane gave Manuel a shake and set him down. "Stop it."

"You stop, too, git," Arthur said to Lovino, elbowing him.

The Italian nodded, but darted a hostile glare at Manuel. "It's done," he spat.

"It's _not_ done," Manuel hissed. "_Te voy a matar, concha de tu madre!_"

"Manu!" Martín finally got off his arse and came to the other side of the table. "Stop talking like that, _flaco_. We are all friends here."

"Evidently not," the tall bloke said.

Arthur poked Gilbert. "Introduce us, or something! Don't let them get in trouble," he hissed.

"Kesesese! Hey, Ludwig, these are my friends!" Gilbert slung an arm around each of them. "This is Lovino and this is Arthur. Guys, this is Ludwig; he's German too, and he's a big shot on Persephone. Like a lieutenant."

"I am not a _big shot_," the German said with a sigh. He ran a hand over his severe blond hairstyle.

"Ve~," they heard, and turned in place. A young auburn-haired man (boy?) was hugging Manuel. "Manu, why are you fighting? Feliks came and told me, ve. Please don't fight. We should all be friendly here, right?"

Lovino started at the sound of the Italian accent. _"__Il cileno è un bastardo stupido omosessuale,_" he snarled to the newcomer.

"What? Manuel is a stupid bastard homo?" Everyone drew breath at this, including Manuel, who lunged for Lovino with a growl, but was restrained both by the embrace of the young Italian and by Mathias' grip, still on his collar. "Well, ve, I don't know who you are, but Manu is my friend and I don't care if he's a homo or not. _Nobody_ cares, ve!"

The bravura of this young man faded abruptly as Lovino stepped close to him with a menacing expression. "Don't give a damn," he spat. "I ha—"

Arthur grabbed him by the arm and spun him off balance. This had gone on long enough. "Come on, git, I'm starving. Forget Manuel."

Martín flashed him a wink of agreement, reaching to take the Chilean's arm. "Come with me, _flaco_, and we'll go to the movie room." He drew the Chilean out of the room.

"Come on, guys, let's get some breakfast," Mathias hazarded.

But Lovino shook his head. "Tell me how to get back to our room, bastard," he muttered to Gilbert, who was nearest.

"Ah – well – all right." The albino grinned at Ludwig and put his arm around Lovino again. "You two coming?"

"Yeah," Arthur said.

"Yeah," Mathias said.

The four of them left the lunchroom, leaving Ludwig, the Italian kid, and a few others staring after them.

Nobody said anything until they were safely back in the room and the door shut. Lovino flopped down face-first on the bed. "Dammit. I – I'm sorry, bastards. I really am. But I hate that fucker, and – "

"Don't worry about it," Arthur told him, sitting on the bed and resting his hand on Lovino's shoulder. "We know."

Gilbert gave him a grimace. "Well, yeah. _We_ know. And we don't give a damn, because we all know what it was like on Jones. Martín probably doesn't care, either. We all know Manuel is like your nemesis, or whatever, and we know everybody's used to fighting, too. But – but they – here, they – "

"We don't want to upset them," Mathias said forcefully. "I know it's been rough for you, Lovino. But these people have welcomed us, and taken care of us, and of you. I don't know if Ludwig will make trouble about this, but we really need to make sure it doesn't happen again, and that you apologize for it."

Lovino rolled onto his back. "I know. I – I'm sorry, bastards. I mean, I'm sorry to you, but I'm also sorry I acted so childish. The – the fucking thing is, that it doesn't even matter that they stole the damn pod. All we were going to do with it was come here, anyway. I just – when I saw him there, I forgot, and – " He rubbed his eyes.

"We'll make sure it's all right," Gilbert decided. "Just act sorry – not like a baby, just be calm about it and apologize. If the rest of us all walk on eggshells for a while, it should be all right. They should be cool about you and Arthur, and even Martín and Manuel, since you were all trapped under that dome for nearly a month. You're all tense and they should understand that. But you need to get over it, too." He patted Lovino on the head.

Lovino smacked his hand away, but smiled feebly. "Thanks. All of you. Th-thanks for standing by me. I'm so fucking confused and irritated about everything; I don't know which end is up. But – but I'll try to be calm. Don't expect me to be friendly to that bastard, but I can at least sit there and ignore him, if he ignores me."

"I hope Martín is telling Manuel the same thing right now," Mathias laughed.

"Uh. I'm still hungry, though."

"Want to stay here? We could bring something back for you?"

"Nh. No. Putting it off is only going to make things worse; let's get it over with." Lovino got off the bed; Arthur followed. "Come on, show us how to get back there. But while we walk, tell us a little about those people. The German brute and the other kid. Who are they? You said a lieutenant?" He opened the door and they left, again.

Mathias explained about Ludwig and Feliciano while they walked. "Uh. Lovino." He then dropped his voice and bent to speak near the brunet's ear. "Don't make any more homo comments, all right? I – I think there might be quite a few boys – men – on this ship who are, are that way." He blushed, but Lovino wasn't looking at him.

Arthur was watching the Dane, though. Wondered whether Mathias had met someone. This was interesting to think about. If Mathias – or even Gilbert – had found a partner, whether male or female, it might change their relationships with each other.

He'd ask Gilbert later. Mathias clearly had some kind of awkwardness with the concept.

They reentered the lunchroom, which had a lot more people in it now; Ludwig was gone, but the Italian kid, Feliciano, was at a table. Arthur decided to take the bull by the horns. "Make me a plate," he muttered to Mathias. He then strode right up to the table where Feliciano sat with a swishy-looking blond guy, and sat down. "Hi. My name's Arthur." He shook hands with them both, feeling very bold and grown-up. Well, he had to start being responsible sometime.

"Ve, I'm Feli, and this is Feliks."

"Like, hi. You're Gilbert's friend?"

By now the other three had gotten plates of food and cups of coffee and came to sit. Arthur took the plate from Mathias. "Ta, mate." He laughed and turned back to Feliks. "Am I going to be known as 'Gilbert's friend' for the rest of my bloody life?"

Lovino wasn't ready to indulge in mindless pleasantries yet, though. "Uh. I. I'm sorry, ba- uh, I'm sorry about M-Manuel. What I said, and what I did."

Feli tilted his head and looked at him. "Why do you hate him, ve?"

"The bas-uh, um, he – he's always antagonizing me. W-we've been at each other's throats for a long time."

Arthur nudged him under the table and tried to change the subject again. "How many people on this ship?"

But Feli wasn't ready to let it drop yet, either. "He's had a difficult life."

At this, Lovino exploded. "Haven't we all, bastard?" He slammed his fist down on the table. Both Feliks and Feli jumped. Arthur panicked, trying to recover the situation, but Gilbert beat him to it.

"Kesesese! Lovino, you'll never change." He leaned past Arthur and hugged the brunet. "I really missed you."

"I – uh – I missed you too, stupid." All his friends grinned at that. "Now let me eat. Arthur and I haven't had anything to eat except meal pills and tap water for the last week."

"Ve!" Feli squealed. "You are Gilbert's friends from school?"

Everyone at the table stared at this clueless young man. "Uh, yeah?"

Mathias laughed and reached for the salt. "Don't tell me you forgot, Feliciano. Ever since we got here Gilbert's been working to rescue them."

Feli looked contrite. "Oh. I – I knew Gilbert was trying to free his friends, ve, but I didn't know that was you. Or you," he said to Arthur. "So you were at school with Manu and his boyfriend, right, ve?"

Lovino scowled. "That's right."

"Well, no wonder you're so tense. Manu told me about that problem with your dome being stuck shut, ve, and how there was nothing to eat. Eat!" He smiled at Lovino and patted him on the head.

"What the – what?"

Arthur finally began to calm down. Was this Feli really as vague as he seemed, or was he very subtle? Either way, it appeared the ice had been broken. He could see that Lovino was settling down. "Just eat, git," he sighed, reaching for some of Gilbert's food, since he'd finished his own.

"Stop eating my awesome food."

"Shut it. Get me something else to eat."

"Get it yourself!"

"Bugger off," Arthur laughed, swiping more food from the albino's plate. Gilbert poked him and pushed the plate closer with a grin.

Feliks cleared his throat. "Wow, you guys are like, totally mean to each other! And yet, you're, you know, good friends? I totally wish I had a friend I could be mean with."

"Everybody's your friend, ve."

"But not like that. Imagine if I told Elizaveta to, like, shut it and get me something to eat?" He and Feli giggled, and Gilbert snorted.

"She'd hit you with that frying pan, I bet. I wish she'd never discovered that damn thing; I'm beginning to get a permanent dent in my ass!" The others all laughed.

Mathias sipped coffee before turning to Lovino. "Listen, you two. When we're done eating, Gilbert and I will take you on a ship's tour, all right? You can see the recreation areas and things." He burped. "Find your way around, meet some people."

"Sounds good to me, bastard." Lovino reached for a second helping of tomatoes. "I love tomatoes," he sighed.

"We know. We awesomely know!"

"Ve, well, I have to get going. We're bringing the ship closer to Jones, you know, so that other students can come live here."

"I wondered about that," Arthur piped up. "Do you mean just students? What about the teachers, the people in the town?"

"I have no idea, ve. You'd have to ask Tino."

The Brit nodded. "I will."

Feliks left after another minute, too. "Like, see you later!" he waved.

"Well, that's good. Got a little damage control done," Gilbert nodded, toying with a spoon. "Just Ludwig, then, and Manuel and Martín."

"Look, you dumb albino, I'm not apologizing to those two. And they probably don't expect me to. I'll – I'll talk to the m-macho potato, and apologize; I don't need some fucking big shot bastard lieutenant pissed off at me. But those two? Even if I _did_ apologize, all they'd do is laugh."

"He's got a point," Mathias agreed. "But yeah. We'll hunt Ludwig down later."

"Fine. B-but I think we should talk to this Tino before you take us on a ship's tour or anything else." Lovino's face was red. Ah, he was trying so hard to be manly. Arthur's heart fluttered. He was going to be extra loving and supportive, when they were alone again.

Gilbert hugged the brunet. "Okay. I don't care. Now that you two are here, half my day or more is free, because I was spending all that time trying to crack the security codes to unseal your dome. I wonder if we'll ever find out why they did it? There were no other developments with that problem."

Arthur's eyes met Lovino's and they both looked down. "Whatever, git. Come on. Finish up and let's go find Tino."

...

"I do have a little time to spare," the ship's commander said. "I'd like to speak to Lovino and Arthur alone, though, if you two don't mind."

"We don't mind," Mathias answered quickly, before Gilbert could say anything. "Come on. Uh – I'm not sure these two can find their way back to their room, so if someone can take them there – ?"

"Yes, I'm sure someone can be found. Thank you."

Gilbert clapped Lovino on the shoulder encouragingly before he and Mathias left.

"Please take a seat," Tino invited. The two newcomers sat. Arthur was still bloody nervous. Were they about to get a lecture?

But no. "Is Berwald all right?" Tino asked anxiously. "I did get a sat-mail from him as soon as he realized the dome was open, but we haven't really had time to talk much."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. "He's fine. He's been very strong, very helpful to us."

Lovino nodded his agreement. "He's a good man."

"Yes." Tino beamed with pride. "We're going to take the ship to Mars orbit so that we can take on anyone from Jones who wants to get away from there. You've heard about the revolution?"

"Wh-what does all that mean, exactly? What's going to change, in the way the world is run?" Lovino now seemed an attentive pupil. Arthur was glad to see he was coming out of his sulks. Maybe he was only doing this so Tino wouldn't yell at him for fighting. Hah.

"As far as we are concerned," Tino declaimed as he paced, "the only things that will change are that people on Persephone – or, indeed, any offworld installation – will be permitted to return to Earth as they please, and that our ship no longer has to sneak around the solar system. Ultimately we'll probably pop the ship into Earth orbit and treat it as a space station."

"Are places like Jones going to be shut down?"

"As far as I know, they won't be used as criminal dumping grounds," Tino shrugged. "That's about all I can tell you. They might continue to be used as schools."

Lovino nodded. "What will happen to the criminals? The real ones?"

"No idea." Tino paced a bit more. "Are you comfortable yet? I heard there was a bit of a dust-up this morning."

Arthur elbowed Lovino, but the brunet was already speaking. "Y-yes, sir. I apologize. Manuel and I – we have never seen eye-to-eye."

The Brit suppressed a snort, at that.

"Oh, it's all right," Tino told them. "People are bound to get tense. Ludwig gets a bit overzealous about policing this place, sometimes."

And that was it? The two friends looked at each other in amazement and then quickly looked away; Arthur felt like laughing aloud.

"Do you have a plan for where you wish to go?" Tino asked. "We'll be able to start dispatching people in a few weeks."

"Haven't thought about it much." Lovino clasped his hands in his lap. "Need to talk to our friends first."

"Well, you've plenty of time. We may need you to do some odd jobs around the ship, but otherwise you're free to do as you please. Just no more fighting, please. I don't want Ludwig to burst a blood vessel." He laughed a sweet tinkling laugh, and both the others joined in.

"Agreed, ba- agreed." They stood up and shook his hand.

"Come with me. I'll find someone to lead you to your friends." He led them back to the lunchroom.

They didn't recognize anyone in the lunchroom. Tino beckoned to a sour-looking girl with long, straight blond hair. Scowling, she came over to them.

The commander performed the introductions; the young woman was named Natalia. "Can you spare a few minutes to lead these two to their room? Level D, room 1206."

She nodded without speaking and left the room purposefully; Arthur and Lovino scrambled to keep up.

"Have you been on Persephone for a long time?" Lovino asked her. Arthur was a little startled at the tone of his voice, which was deep and honeyed. He'd only ever heard his friend use that tone when the two of them were being intimate together.

"Three years," she snapped, walking onward.

Lovino tried again. "It must be difficult for such a beautiful girl on a ship with all these men."

Arthur's blood ran cold. Was Lovino trying to – but he'd thought the two of them were committed to each other! He faltered in the narrow corridor. What if Lovino wanted to pursue her? Or, really, anyone? Did Arthur have the balls to talk to his friend about this? He was terrified.

"Not so bad," she replied. Arthur, clenching his fists, forced himself to pay attention to their interaction, and although Lovino kept making pleasantries in that warm and intimate voice, Natalia didn't seem to pick up on it.

Arthur didn't know what to think. He knew Lovino despised being taken for a gay man; his Italian comment to Feli this morning had proved that he still wasn't comfortable with the idea. Wh-what if the presence of women on Persephone made him rethink his relationship with Arthur?

Here he realized they'd reached the room, and Natalia was gone; Lovino stood in the open doorway staring at him. "Bastard? Are you coming inside?"

"Er. Y-yes."

The door shut behind him and he shuffled weakly to the lower bunk to sit.

"Are you all right?"

"I – I will be," he managed. He didn't want to sound like a bloody baby or anything. "Just tired, I guess. It's stressful, with all these new people."

"Tell me about it. That stupid bitch couldn't even make coherent conversation." Lovino sat next to his friend and took his hand.

Well, that seemed encouraging. Arthur turned to look at Lovino and almost instantly felt the warm lips on his. "Oh," he moaned, so quietly, reaching his arms around Lovino's waist and pulling him closer.

They kissed calmly, almost as though Lovino understood his anxieties and wanted to assuage them. He snuggled up closer to the blond. "I'm glad we have some alone time," he whispered against his friend's lips. "It's been too long since we could be close."

Arthur still had a little nagging doubt in his mind – maybe Lovino was just planning to fool around with him because he was handy, as it were? And then Lovino put his arms up around Arthur's neck and said, "_Ti amo, mio bastardo biondo."_

"What does that mean?" Though he could guess, and he was smiling as he asked.

"Dammit. You know what it means."

"Say it," he teased.

"Ahem. 'Mi amas vin, mia blonda bastardo.' Satisfied?"

Arthur did know enough Esperanto to translate that. "I wouldn't ever have thought Esperanto was a 'romance' language," he joked, "and I love you too. My dark Italian bastard." He pulled Lovino closer and the two of them lay back on the bed.

"Uh," Lovino said, stopping as if he'd had cold water thrown on him.

"Uh what?" Arthur tugged at his belt buckle. "Come on, why are you stopping?"

"Is there a lock on that door? You know the albino idiot is just stupid enough to come barging in here."

"Hah." Now Arthur had lost all desire, too. "I don't know if there's a lock and don't know how to lock it."

"Fuck. How are we going to find out? If we ask them, they're going to wonder why we want to lock them out."

Arthur laughed a little and mentioned the weird expression on Mathias' face when they'd talked about Lovino's 'homo' comment. "So maybe they'd understand."

"Okay, but _you _have to ask them. I can't do it." Lovino rubbed his hand over his face.

"Will it bother you if they come in while we're just lying here making out?" Arthur put a pleading expression on his face. Blast, he really wanted to be close to Lovino.

"Yes."

"Git."

"Ah, forget it, bastard. Ask them about locking it. Let's talk about things. Let's talk about those fucking letters."

"What's there to talk about? The wankers have run off and left us to fend for ourselves. I hope they kill each other."

Lovino was still as he listened to this. "Yeah, that about sums it up. Give me a kiss."

They began kissing again, and the door slid open. "Kesesese!"

"Dammit. _Dammit!"_ The brunet rolled away from Arthur so fast he almost fell off the bunk.

But Arthur was laughing. "Come in, gits, and tell me how to lock this bloody door."

...

_Natalia = Belarus._

_Thanks to kastiyana for the Manuel help._


	25. Heated Discussions of Hot Topics

**Heated Discussions of Hot Topics.**

"We – we – uh – we can – " Mathias gestured back towards the open door with a very embarrassed look on his face, trying to grab Gilbert by the arm.

"Kesesese!" This seemed to be all Gilbert could manage, and, ignoring the others, he came fully into the room and plunked down on one of the little chairs; Mathias followed, and the door slid shut. "I don't know how to lock the doors, awesome ones. So, are you two lovers, or what?"

Lovino was fuming, glaring at the underside of the upper bunk, but before he could say anything, Mathias took a deep breath. "I'm glad you two have each other."

"I – I – " The brunet cleared his throat and swallowed. "I'm glad too, bastards," he snapped, still unable to meet anyone's eyes. "Now shut the fuck up about it." He took Arthur's hand almost violently, shifting into a seated position.

The Brit smiled at him with such joy that Lovino let go and punched him. "Ow. Git." But Arthur kept smiling and sat up too.

"I said shut the fuck up about it!"

"Kesesese!"

Fuck, Gilbert was an asshole sometimes. Lovino wanted to punch _him_, but he also wanted to drop the damn discussion, so he didn't say anything.

Mathias then cleared his throat. "But I don't get it. You're always coming down on Manuel for being a homo?"

"Dammit!" Lovino blew out a big, big breath. "Listen, idiots. I'm not a fucking homo, all right? I'm _not gay_. It's just – it's just that, well, Arthur – Arthur and I – we – just listen to me," he demanded, even though nobody had interrupted this disconnected explanation. "I just like Arthur, all right? It doesn't matter if he's a guy or not! If Arthur was a girl I'd still want to be with him. Her. You understand? I'm not gay and I'm not going to go chasing other guys around because I have no interest in them. Understand?" His face was violent and red. He turned to Arthur; the idiot was still sitting there grinning like a goof. "Help me out here, dammit!"

"Look, I told you before," Arthur said, expression changing to a little scowl. "I don't care what people think of me. Tell them whatever the hell you want to tell them!"

Gilbert, of course, now made things worse. "Kesesese! You'd make a really pretty girl, Artie."

Lovino leaped off the bed. "Dammit, you stupid fuck—"

But the albino jumped up and hugged him tightly, pinning his arms to his sides. "Don't. Don't be mad, all right? I – uh – I kind of always thought you two were together, even before we were friends. All right? It's no big deal. Okay? If you have friends, real friends, like we are, then this kind of thing shouldn't matter between us. And I don't care. I agree with Mathias; I think it's great. I want you guys to be happy, yeah? There's not all that much in the world to make people happy. Take it where you can."

Trapped in the albino's embrace, Lovino began to settle; little by little the anger drained from him and left him feeling exhausted. He nodded. "Let go of me." Gilbert let go and Lovino immediately went back to sit next to Arthur on the bunk, taking his hand again.

"You're all right?" the blond asked.

"Yes, dammit. But – but do you understand what I mean?" He appealed to their friends. "I'm not interested in – in _fucking boys_. I just want to be with Arthur; we care about each other and we're going to look after each other." He turned red again, but this time with embarrassment. He knew Arthur must be giving him that sappy smile again, so he didn't look at him.

"I get it," Mathias said, still sounding calm, but he was smiling too.

"And we love you too," Gilbert added. Before Lovino could get pissed off again, Arthur blew a raspberry, which made even the temperamental Italian laugh.

"Are we done with this fucking discussion?"

"Sure. Why?"

"What the hell did you two come over here for anyway?"

"And you seriously don't know how to lock the bloody doors?" Arthur remembered to ask.

"No. But let me take a look." Mathias went to fiddle with the door while Gilbert talked.

"Well, we just wanted to talk to you. Find out what Tino said, or whatever. Did you get in trouble?"

Lovino snorted. "Nah. Apparently that potato bastard's too uptight. Tino just said don't do it again."

"And we won't," Arthur added.

"I have to wonder, though." Lovino watched Mathias fiddle with the door. "Tino seems like such a goddamn _nice guy_. How the hell does he keep order on this damn ship?"

Gilbert laughed. "It's funny. I got in trouble one day."

"Nosing into other people's business, I bet, right, git?"

"Ha!" Mathias, still at the door, laughed out loud at that. "Exactly right. He was mocking Tino because he calls Mr. Oxenstierna his 'husband.'"

Lovino drew a hissing breath. "You _mocked him_? Bastard, have you got a death wish?"

"No, no, no. We were talking to Ludwig and Feliks." He recapped the discussion, and his subsequent reasoning about Oxenstierna being the 'husband.' "That's all. But Ludwig pointed out that everyone likes and respects Tino because he saved them. Nobody wants to piss off a guy who did such an important and nice thing for them, so they all do what he says."

"That kind of makes sense," Arthur agreed.

"Fucking unrealistic, though. I mean, he saved us, I guess, and I don't feel any particular fondness for him."

"You don't feel any 'particular fondness' for anyone, Lovino! Well, except Arthur." Gilbert waggled his eyebrows.

"Shut it, git. Don't tease him or we'll be fighting all day. Anyway, forget about Tino. I think we need to talk."

"I can't figure out how to lock this," Mathias finally announced.

"Fuck! You mean we're going to have even less privacy than at school? Dammit!"

"Well," Gilbert pointed out, "nobody ever comes into our room, and we've been here what now, a month? A little more than a month?"

"Yes, but," Lovino snapped at him, "_you_ need to stop barging into our room! Idiot!"

"Oh! Kesesese. Of course. We'll knock."

"Will you be able to hear us if we say 'go away'?" Arthur wondered.

"What the fuck, it's not like I'm ever going to be able to relax again." Lovino's tone was extremely melodramatic, and it made the others laugh.

Mathias came back to sit down. "What do we need to talk about?" he asked Arthur.

"The future, whatever. What are we going to do now? Should we go to Triton, or what?"

"Y-you guys still want to stick with us?" the Dane wondered. "I kind of thought you'd go your own way once we escaped from Jones." All three of the others stared at him. "What? What?" he demanded. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Bastard, you – you don't want to hang out with us anymore?"

"I never said that!" He hurriedly backtracked. "I didn't mean that at all. I just – well – why the hell would you want to hang out with me? In the long run?" He stared at his hands again. "I'm grateful you helped me get away before they could terminate me, but I didn't think you'd – "

"Uh," Lovino interrupted, but he didn't know what to say. Gilbert still sat stricken. But Arthur got off the bed and knelt down in front of him, taking one of those powerful hands in both of his own.

"We're all in this together. We – we need to trust each other, and look out for each other, and maybe, just maybe, working together, we can find a place to be, or a way to live, that's better for all of us. Together. You looked out for Lovino when we were on Jones, and we're not going to dump you and run! You and Gilbert were worried about us when we were under the lockdown, right?"

Mathias and Gilbert both nodded, confused.

"But we were just as worried about you two. Mr. Oxenstierna told us he'd sent you to Persephone, but we had no way of knowing whether you were all right. We didn't know if you'd gotten here safely, or maybe the pod broke down, or got intercepted by the Government, or what. We were bloody terrified for you, for a little while."

"Why did you stop?" Mathias asked in wonder. "Being terrified, I mean." He squeezed Arthur's hands.

"Bank deposit," Lovino snorted. "They always say 'money talks,' and dammit, it sure talked to us. It said 'kesesese.'" This last he uttered in a heavily snarky tone; everyone laughed.

"Oh! You awesomely knew it was from me, huh? From us?" Gilbert beamed. "I knew you'd figure it out."

"Yeah, stupid, like other people are going to randomly dump that kind of money into our bank account?" But he blushed again, remembering how he hadn't grasped that either, at first.

Arthur must have been thinking of that, too. "Listen, forget about all that. Yes, it was bloody brilliant, but it's over. We need to talk about the future. All right? Mathias?"

The Dane nodded. "Thanks," he grinned. "Makes me happier."

"Good." Arthur got up and went back to the bed. "You said there are no security cameras…are there listening devices, or any such shite?"

"Not that I ever heard of."

"Well, then, what?" Gilbert asked. "Want to go to Triton?"

Lovino sighed. "I don't want to stay on this fucking ship, that's for sure. I – I still want to find a place where we're not at the secret mercy of any stupid authority bastards, even nice ones like Tino. I mean, at Jones, I was constantly in fear of a whipping, even after you told me what Adnan did with the fake punishment. We never really knew what was going on. And, yeah, fuck, this Resistance, overthrow, shit, whatever you call it, it might be easier or safer to live now, but we don't really know that yet, do we? And staying here, well, you saw what happened this morning. Yeah, I got away with it, but…you know how hard it is for me. I – I'd like to cast a vote for Triton, or someplace else, where we're in charge of our own lives."

"I agree," Mathias put in. "I'm not happy on this ship. I'm a lot tenser than I used to be at Jones, and that's saying something."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Er. I've been thinking about something."

When he didn't continue, Lovino elbowed him. "What? Say it."

"Do you really – _really_ – think that we can be happy, just the four of us, just 'existing' in a place like the one on Triton? There really wouldn't be anything to do, except – well – _live_. Grow crops and maintain the systems and rubbish like that. Don't you think that would be kind of boring after a while?"

"I myself wouldn't really have a problem with it." Gilbert smiled at them. "Because you know I can busy myself with my tech stuff all the time. But I can see it might get boring, maybe just once in a while."

"Is there even a satellite out there, bastard? Did they dismantle it when they shut down the development?"

"Yeah, it's there. You think I wouldn't have checked that out? Kesesese!"

"Well?" Lovino demanded. "What are we going to do? I think Arthur has – has a good point." He blushed and pressed his lips together tightly, hoping stupid Gilbert wouldn't make any more cheesy romantic commentary.

"We don't really need to come up with something awesome right this minute, you know."

"True." Mathias leaned back in his chair.

"I – had an idea," Arthur put forth, shyly.

"What idea?" He'd never mentioned anything to Lovino.

"H-how much does a ship cost?"

"Fuck! You mean buy our own ship? Where the hell would we go?"

"Wherever we awesomely wanted! That would be excellent. Wouldn't it be excellent, Mathias?"

"It would be excellent, Gilbert. It would be _awesome._"

"I know! Artie, you're brilliant."

"Except we maybe don't have enough money to buy one. I don't want to go around in a bloody pod for the rest of our lives."

"No shit. Well, let's find out. Gilbert?" Lovino was strangely intrigued by the idea of randomly flitting around the solar system, doing whatever they wanted. Traveling, or just hanging out – it did sound a lot more interesting than living out their days in a derelict development.

"Sure, I can go look stuff up now."

"Uh, but," Mathias pointed out, "ships don't run themselves. Even if we had the money for one, we'd need to keep making money, somehow. For supplies and whatever."

"Huh. Good point. Well, maybe we can come up with something. Find out about the ships, bastard."

"Look for something nice, too, git. Not some old clunker."

"Kesesese! I know what to look for. But – I don't know anything about actually working a ship. I memorized the controls for the big pod for our escape, but when Mathias and I were in the little pod coming here, I had no idea how to do anything, because it was a different style of system. I don't know what use I'd be."

"Maybe what we should do is stay here on Persephone for a while and start learning about the ship's workings? Gilbert and I have been doing some technical stuff while we waited for you, learning about propulsion systems and stuff, but not really enough to know what we're doing. If we all focused on a different aspect of running a ship, then at least if we could get a ship, we'd end up knowing enough to do it."

The others nodded. "Let's divvy it up, then," Lovino decided. "Who's going to learn what?"

They spent the better part of an hour discussing this, and at the end of that time had a pretty good idea of what to learn, where to go, what to do. "Cool! This is going to be amazing. Even better than going to Triton."

"I agree. And – thank you guys," Mathias smiled. Gilbert reached out and petted his hair; the Dane blushed.

"What now?" Arthur asked. "Dinner or what?"

Gilbert checked the clock. "Not yet. Want to go watch a movie? We can talk to Ludwig about our new 'jobs' tomorrow."

"Sure, bastard. A movie sounds fine."

"No making out in the theater! Kesesese!"

"Shut up, you dumb albino fucker. Take us to the theater." Lovino kicked him.

Rising, Gilbert kicked him back. "Whatever you say, boss."

"Ow. Bastard."

…

Roderich was in the movie room with a pretty young woman, and he was flushed and laughing. "Hello! Lovino and Arthur! Come meet my lovely wife!"

"Wife?" Gilbert hissed to Mathias. "How did we not know that?"

"Beats me." They followed their friends.

"I didn't want to talk to _you_, Gilbert," the dark-haired man said flatly. He introduced his wife, Elizaveta, to Arthur and Lovino, who took her hand briefly and smiled.

"Do you two not see each other much?" the Italian wondered. "You seem so excited."

"Elizaveta's going to have a baby!" Roderich crowed. "We just found out!"

"Kesesese! No more wielding the frying pan!"

"Shut up, Gilbert," the girl said, shoving him.

"Hey, don't strain yourself!" The albino was laughing and he put an arm around each of them while his friends watched. "You need to take good care of her, my man."

"I'm not 'your man,'" Roderich sniffed haughtily, all excitement forgotten. "If I'd known you were coming down here we would have stayed away." He pushed Gilbert away also.

Arthur, Lovino and Mathias watched all this interaction in amazement. "Are they always like this?" Arthur whispered to the Dane.

"Yes. Except sometimes she hits him."

Lovino snorted. "Good. I think I need to start hitting him myself."

Gilbert heard this and came over to him immediately. "No, no, my awesome friend. Don't hit me."

So Lovino kicked him, and Roderich and his wife burst out laughing.

"Congratulations," Arthur said to the happy couple, trying to bring some normalcy to the scene.

"Thank you. I hope we're settled somewhere before the happy event, though," Elizaveta confessed. "I'd hate to have a baby on board a ship!"

"Is there even a doctor on board?"

"Yes. Wang Yao is the doctor. He's quite skilled and uses a variety of healing methods, including an ancient art known as acupuncture."

Elizaveta shuddered. "Don't remind me. I don't want him sticking me with pins during childbirth!"

Everyone chuckled at that. "I suppose we ought to meet him one of these days, bastards. In case someone gets sick."

"Did you say 'bastards'?" the girl asked in amazement.

Roderich sighed. "It's just the way he talks. Just stay away from 'Doctor' Lars," he told the friends.

"Who the hell is Doctor Lars?" Mathias asked.

Elizaveta sighed. "Lars was the ship's doctor before we picked up Yao. He's all right, but he's way too pushy with drugs. For a while Persephone was having real trouble because people kept taking his so-called 'medicines' and getting too spaced-out to do their work."

The four friends looked at each other and then quickly looked away. Nobody wanted to start up the drug business again. Not here on this ship. "But he's still on the ship?" Lovino wondered.

"Yes. He's on the ship but Tino told him if he started pushing his 'medicines' again he'd have to leave. His sister's here, so I guess he wants to stay and look after her; he stopped making the medicines available, and soon after that Yao came on board."

Elizaveta giggled. "But I think Lars still takes his 'medicines' himself! Every time I see him he looks like he's in a dream world."

"Dream worlds aren't bad, sweetheart," Roderich said to her in a soft tone. "We're making our own dream world, yes?"

"Yes," she smiled, and kissed him.

Feliks' voice came booming out of the room's speakers. "Hey! Like, shut up and sit down! We totally want to start the movie! You can, like, get all kissy later!" Then he made smooching noises into the microphone and started giggling.

"Oh! Oh, all right," Arthur said, hurrying to an empty row. There were only six rows of six seats each in the small screening room.

"Congratulations again," Mathias grinned, shaking Roderich's hand, as everyone else scrambled for a seat.

…

"I've never – never really been on a date before."

"Shut _up, _bastard!"

But then Lovino reached over in the dark and shyly took Arthur's hand, and the blond squeezed back, very happy.

…

After a late dinner – where Lovino had apologized to Ludwig and the four friends had spoken with him about doing active work on the ship – they split up to go back to their rooms. "And don't worry, awesome ones, we won't come over _at all._ You just come knock on our door when you want to see us. All right?" Gilbert began cackling; Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, stupid. Thanks for helping smooth things over with the macho potato."

"Good night," Arthur said calmly, as they went into their room and closed the door.

Mathias had already opened the door to their room. "Coming in, or what?"

"Yes, yes. I was just thinking of knocking on their door, kesesese."

"Gilbert, you are so bad. Don't."

"You're a party pooper. Maybe I'll just bang on the wall."

"Don't. Man, just settle down!"

"Yeah, whatever." Gilbert pouted but then laughed.

The two friends got ready for bed. They'd continued sleeping in the lower bunk together; after a few awkward mornings where they'd awakened cuddled together, they both had sort of accepted that this was going to happen, and now Gilbert seemed quite comfortable with their snuggly relationship.

Mathias, of course, was more and more conflicted. Norge had pretty much left him alone. Mathias had noticed his eyes following Eduard around lately. That was a relief, and he'd considered that "the Norge problem" was probably over. He hadn't really had any conflicts on the ship after that…until today. All those discussions with Lovino and Arthur, and discussions about husbands, and even Elizaveta's pregnancy – all these sexual, quasi-romantic discussions were floating around in his mind, and he was on edge.

"Hello?" Gilbert asked, from the comfort of the bunk. "Are you all right?"

Mathias shrugged. "Don't know." He got into the bed and lay on his back, staring at the upper bunk.

"What's wrong? Worried about this running a ship business?"

"What? Oh. No. Just – just thinking."

"Oh, about Lovino and Arthur, huh?"

"And Roderich and Elizaveta, and Martín and Manuel, and everyone. All these romantic relationships."

"I wonder if Lovino is actually what you'd call _romantic_ when he's with Arthur?" Gilbert lay on his back as well, hands behind his head. "I mean, how romantic would it actually be if he said 'Get the fuck over here and kiss me, bastard'?"

Both of them started laughing. "Stop, or I'll be thinking that next time I see them, and…it won't be pleasant."

"Don't I know it! Between Elizaveta and the frying pan on one side, and Lovino kicking me on the other, I'm going to be a total mass of bruises." Gilbert lifted up his leg and checked it, but there were no bruises at all, yet.

"You'll be fine."

"Hey, has Norge been pestering you? Still wants a date?"

"No. I think he's going to make a play for Eduard, though."

"They'd be a cute couple."

"Weird to think about them in bed, though. Which one would be the husband?"

"Kesesese!"

Several minutes went by, and then Gilbert cleared his throat. "Do you ever think about romance? I mean, real romance, for you?"

"N-not really. Not romance like Roderich and Elizaveta. I mean, I just can't picture myself calling somebody 'sweetheart.' It just sounds so phony."

"Well, that's totally Rod's thing, you know, that gentlemanly shit. But there are lots of different types of people. Maybe you'd find one who didn't like that stuff."

"True. Not if we're going to be sailing through space on a ship, just the four of us, though."

"You could be like an old-time sailor. A woman in every port!" Gilbert laughed.

"Right. _Right_. Mathias Kohler, the Great Seducer." Both of them began laughing at that.

"But, you know, I'm glad Arthur and Lovino are so flexible. I really am glad they look after each other."

Mathias grinned. "I'm just glad Lovino didn't kill us today, when we walked in there!"

"Aw, you know he loves us."

"Y-yeah."

"So," Gilbert said, after another little silence.

"What?"

"Well. They love us. And we love them. Right?"

"Guess so."

"And they awesomely love each other."

"True."

"So where does that leave us?" Gilbert's crimson eyes roved all around the little room as he spoke, not settling on Mathias.

"What does that mean?"

"D-do we love each other?" The albino's normally-pale cheeks were now a bright, embarrassed red.

"Uh, I, uh…"

"S-sorry. I just – you know, I'm flexible too, Mathias."

Was Gilbert really saying what it seemed like he was saying? "You want to be with me?" the Dane blurted out.

"W-well…uh…we, we're sharing a bed every night, and hugging all the time, and – well – well – " He cleared his throat. "Forget I said anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He paused again, but Mathias didn't really notice, because his brain was whirling. "Do you want me to sleep in the upper bunk?"

Mathias didn't answer; his unseeing eyes peered up at the underside of that bunk as he let this unusual thought settle in his brain.

Not such an unusual thought. He'd always thought Gilbert a very handsome young man, and they were best friends; as Gilbert had said, hugging and sharing a bed every night. But – to be a husband?

He hadn't realized he'd said that aloud until he heard Gilbert's "Kesesesese! If you wanted to, my friend, I'd awesomely let you be the husband. Seriously. I – I don't want us to be apart. But don't be mad at me if you don't want to. I mean, if you'll s-stay friends with me, that's all right too. I just – you and I, we – "

Gilbert finally shut up, because Mathias' mouth was on his own, kissing him, and as the albino kissed back, Mathias realized that this was exactly what he had wanted all along, but he'd been too conflicted to understand.

"Is that a yes?" Gilbert whispered, when they finally broke apart.

The blond grinned down at him. "It awesomely is."

…

_Thank God I finally got them together. Mathias is so clueless._

_Wang Yao = China  
Lars = Netherlands  
His sister = Belgium_


	26. Steps to Success

**Steps to Success.**

Researching the purchase of a ship had been awesome, at first. Right away Gilbert had found a company on Jupiter that custom-built really cool, modern spaceships. Jupiter wasn't bad. Tino had told them people could be dropped off anywhere. Though with Persephone heading Earthward, they weren't sure how that would be accomplished.

Ignoring that, all four of them had clustered around the tablet, picking out features they wanted on their ship. Arthur was concerned with the most up-to-date navigation systems. Lovino wanted a cloaking device; the others had all agreed eagerly. Mathias just wanted one that looked sleek; Gilbert wanted comfort.

Of course they then learned they had nowhere near enough money for the kind of flashy, souped-up model they'd ended up customizing. And as Mathias had pointed out before, ships don't run themselves. Nobody had been able to come up with a moneymaking scheme, and nobody had wanted to bring up the subject of Spotlight again. So they'd all continued working and studying their ship-running topics, but to no real end, other than the dream of "maybe someday."

But Gilbert had developed a secret plan. He hoped he could convince his friends to go along with it. It would be such an awesome adventure! He was working online at the moment, but not on anything legal or aboveboard. So he wasn't ready to confide in his friends yet. Not even Mathias.

About two weeks had passed since their decision to leave Persephone. The old, slow ship was now in its final approach to Mars. Everyone on board was excited; the place had a festival atmosphere. Gilbert snorted. Clearly none of these people had any idea what it was really like at Jones.

Lovino was still working today; he had chosen to stick with machine maintenance, since he already had some experience in that. The other three lounged around the lunchroom, chatting with people here and there. Matthew had sat with them for a while, talking quietly to Arthur about England, a country he loved, and they'd also been introduced to the doctor, Yao. Everyone was talkative and eager to take shore leave.

"What's going to happen to Jones if everybody wants to come to Persephone?" Gilbert wondered.

"Ghost town," Arthur laughed, studying his tablet. He was studying navigation, and would soon be taking an exam to qualify as an entry-level professional. He'd really applied himself over the last few weeks. Everyone was proud of him.

"Nah. Tino told me the new Government is going to keep it a school, but just a regular one. Not some criminal place." Mathias grinned. "Maybe we should just stay there, if everyone else is leaving. We know our way around. Learn some more."

"Don't be an idiot. You know Lovino would never want to stay there." Gilbert poked his new boyfriend with his stylus. "Besides, the shit they teach isn't going to help us in our life plan. Esperanto and fucking Earth history." He cleared his throat and scanned the room. Ah, there was Eduard; maybe he could bring him over, and change the subject.

He waved, and Eduard did come over, sliding onto the bench next to him. "Hi. What are you guys doing?"

"Studying," Arthur said, without looking up.

"Oh. Sorry." Eduard made as if to leave.

"No, no, it's awesomely all right. Just ignore him. He's crabby because the exam is coming up."

"Right. I forgot. Good luck."

Arthur grunted, and both Gilbert and Mathias laughed. "So, Eduard, are you going back to Jones, or what?"

The blond pushed his glasses up his nose. "No. Tino has decided to live there, with Berwald – Mr. Oxenstierna – and leave Persephone. Retiring, he calls it. So Norge is going to be in command of the ship, now." He blushed deeply. Had he and Norge actually gotten together? Gilbert hadn't been paying much attention to that sort of thing. From that blush, he'd bet they had.

"So what does that mean?" Mathias sounded bold. Hah, he was probably trying to find out about Norge too!

"Well, Norge has – has – has invited me," Eduard blushed even more strongly, "to stay on board and be the head of communications." He pushed his glasses up again. "I'm – I'm going to stay," he stammered.

"So you and Norge are awesomely dating?" Gilbert flashed him his special smile, all his teeth bared. People generally responded to that by blurting out everything he wanted to know, because they wanted him to stop doing it. Hell, yes, he knew it was impolite to pry, but it was his nature to pry! "Kesesese!"

"We – ah – well – yes." Eduard began twiddling his thumbs together. "I know that might sound – "

"It's awesome." Mathias nodded, and only Gilbert could see the relief shining in his beautiful blue eyes. "I'm happy for you."

Eduard exhaled noisily, perhaps simply grateful that Gilbert hadn't commented. "What about you guys? Are you all staying together?"

"Hell, yes," Arthur managed, finally putting his tablet away. "You don't find friends like this every day."

Mathias hugged him. "Damn straight."

Norge walked into the room, and they all froze. "He's here," Gilbert said to Eduard, who looked around.

"Oh! Oh. All right. Well, best of luck to you all," the hacker said, rising.

"Thanks, mate. You too." Arthur shook his hand.

When he'd gone, Mathias poked Gilbert. "You're the nosiest person I ever met."

"Knowledge is power, my friend. It pays to be prepared."

Arthur snorted. "What kind of power will you gain by knowing that Norge and Eduard are dating?"

The other two laughed. "Well, I admit that's not too much power, right there. But who knows? Maybe someday Norge will want to run for public office, and we can dredge up his old nefarious tendencies!"

Their combined laughter was so loud that Ludwig, across the room, rose to chastise them. "Damn it. Here comes the babysitter," Mathias said, setting them off again.

But the threat of a Ludwig lecture was enough to sober them quickly. The German, perhaps simply not wanting a confrontation, stopped walking and went back to Feli at the table they'd been sharing; Feli beamed and waved.

After the false start Lovino had had with Manuel, things had settled down. The four friends continued to work hard to be affable and helpful, even Lovino. Gilbert, thinking about it now, realized he hadn't heard the word "bastard" for at least twelve hours. He really hoped Lovino wasn't going soft. That nasty attitude was half the fun of being friends with him.

"Hey, bastards," he heard, and grinned. Ah, there was nothing to worry about. Lovino joined them at the table. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Talking about Jones."

"What about the damn place? I'm not going back down there, idiots."

"I need to go back for a while, though," Gilbert told them. He took a deep breath. This was the first part of his plan; he hoped he could coax them into following along without saying it outright. "I had to leave some things behind when we left, and if they didn't get rid of them, I'd like to pick them up. I'm guessing Adnan, or whoever, won't really have a problem with that, unless they already did get rid of them."

"Oh, that's a good point," Arthur realized, drinking some tea. "I left a lot of stupid stuff there, extra clothes and things that would be useful."

"W-well," Lovino stammered, blushing, "I guess if you – you need me to come down and help, I – I could do that."

Aw. He was so cute. "You're so cute," Gilbert said, pinching his reddened cheek.

Lovino smacked his hand away. "Get off, dammit."

"Why don't we all go together?" Mathias suggested, taking Gilbert's hand and holding it. "I don't mind going if we're all together. If they try to – uh – terminate me – "

"They awesomely will not, and if they do, we'll stop them." Gilbert delivered this decision in a forceful tone, and the others nodded their agreement. He blew Mathias a kiss.

"Will you cut out the lovey shit? This isn't a fucking hotel, you know."

Lovino had been quite embarrassed when he'd learned that Gilbert and Mathias were now together. The albino grinned, remembering how Lovino had wondered if he and Arthur had 'led the two of them astray.' Kesesese! Gilbert had the best, most fun friends in the whole solar system. They were like his brothers, even if they did fight all the time.

"Shut it, git, and let them be," Arthur grumbled, proving Gilbert's point.

The albino cleared his throat. Now for part two. "Well. I think we all need to talk. And I think it might be better to go talk on top of a rock, at Jones."

All three of his friends frowned at him, not understanding. "_Ne demandu demandojn,_" he whispered. _Don't ask questions. _Luckily all four of them – and very few Persephone residents – had a knowledge of Esperanto.

Arthur shrugged. "Whatever. Is there some kind of timetable for shore leave? I can't imagine they're just going to let everyone swarm down there all at once."

"I'll find out," Mathias decided. "But they might, because everyone from down there is going to want to swarm up here."

Part three. Gilbert cleared his throat again. "I – I'm going to take all my stuff with me."

"What? Why?"

"I, uh, well, you know I have a lot of expensive gear, and I feel funny about leaving my bags on board the ship unguarded." That wasn't the real reason, of course.

Lovino tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "So…you…think that…maybe…we should…all do this?" he asked, very, very quietly.

Aha. Maybe Lovino had figured it out. "Yes. I think it would be smarter for all four of us to take all our stuff back down to the planet."

"Whatever you say, idiot." Lovino drummed his fingers on the table.

Arthur and Mathias both looked terrifically confused, and Gilbert laughed at them. "Don't worry, my awesome friends, just do it."

"All right, git. Whatever. You're the boss."

"I'm not! I'm awesomely not. Lovino is totally the boss."

"Shut the fuck up. We're a damn democracy. Nobody's the goddamn boss of anybody."

"Well, if you insist. Still, I think you're the most – uh – 'bosslike?' – of all of us. Wouldn't you agree, Mathias?"

"I'm staying out of the whole damn discussion." He smirked at Gilbert, then Lovino. "But yeah. Lovino's the boss."

"Shut _up! _Dammit!" He pounded on the table.

Ludwig rose again, frowning at them, and all four friends escaped from the lunchroom at high speed.

…

Roderich and Elizaveta had opted to go live in the town, at least until their baby had been born and had a little time to grow up. Feliks, too, had considered this a grand adventure, and he'd already packed his four bags of flashy clothing to haul down to the surface. Many of the other people were simply planning a short shore leave. Tino, of course, had been in the first pod to go down, to see Mr. Oxenstierna (Arthur still couldn't make himself think of the man as 'Berwald'), and groups were shuttling back and forth all the time.

He had his bag packed: they were supposed to depart soon. He and Lovino had spent every night this week trying to deduce Gilbert's plan in whispers. Neither of them knew anything about it, but Lovino was convinced there was some actual plan brewing in the albino's quick-thinking brain. And he had been prepared to concede that it was likely to be a good plan.

Lovino had already gone down to the dock with his own bag. Arthur hefted his bag onto his shoulder and took one last glimpse at the little room. Well, it had served its purpose. He and Lovino were both fairly certain that Gilbert's mystery plan did not involve a return to Persephone. Luckily Arthur had passed his exam and was now a Certified Navigator, Grade I. Wherever they ended up, he'd likely be able to find work of some sort. Now he needed to start studying for Grade II. Grade VI, the highest level, seemed very, very far away from him, right now. He sighed.

As he headed towards the dock, he passed Martín, who was grinning inanely. The Argentinean punched him on the arm. "Have fun down there," he said.

Arthur nodded and smiled politely. "'Fun' isn't the word I'd have chosen."

"Have you seen Doctor Lars around?" Martín glanced up and down the empty hallway, as though Lars might be hiding somewhere nearby.

Aha. Now that Spotlight wasn't available, Martín must be getting his fix from Lars. "Nope, sorry, mate." Arthur pushed past him and continued on his way. When he peered back, Martín was still standing in the hallway, looking vacant. Hah.

His friends were all waiting at the dock. "Hey, slowpoke," Mathias said. "Got your gear?"

Arthur nodded. "What's going on? When can we go?"

Gilbert, standing in the middle of a pile of bags, pointed to the empty pod bay. "Soon as a four-man pod gets here. We're next."

The Brit slipped his bag off his shoulder and set it on the floor. "What are we doing when we get down there? Rocks right away?"

"Room right away," the albino clarified. "Need to get my shit. Well, maybe Adnan right away, to make sure that I _can _get my shit. Then we can go meet on top of that really big rock. You know, the one where you threw up? Kesesese!"

"Threw up?" Mathias wondered.

"Hah! Gilbert was telling us about – about, uh, about some old Viking ritual." He glared at Mathias significantly; the Dane's eyebrows rose. "The idiot couldn't stomach the discussion." Lovino punched the Brit in the arm; Arthur blushed.

"Shut it, will you? I know which rock, and I'll be there. All right?"

Before anyone could answer, beeping began, to signal the approach of a pod. Everyone on the dock watched as it entered and slid to a stop.

"Wonder who's awesomely coming to Persephone?"

"Maybe Vlad? He might be happy to see me, to find out I'm safe?" Mathias nodded.

"Lovi~!" Antonio leaped out of the pod and came running. "Gilbert! What are you doing here? Where have you been?" He tried to hug the instantly-irate Lovino, who struggled to get away. Francis, behind him, grinned lazily as he came over to the small group.

Gilbert and Arthur nodded at each other. The albino grabbed Francis by the collar, and Arthur took Antonio's arm in a fierce, crushing grip. "Get off, wanker." He flung the Spaniard aside.

Ludwig, monitoring the transport, came running over to them. "Please stop fighting!" he bellowed.

Both Antonio and Francis cowered under his stern blue eye; Francis even tried to back away. Gilbert let go of him.

"Get in the pod, you four troublemakers," Ludwig told them. They all scrambled to pick up bags full of things, hurrying to stuff them into the pod, Gilbert trying unsuccessfully to repress a "kesesese!"

"_Vielen Dank!_" he yelled to Ludwig, as the pod door shut.

Lovino wasn't even sitting down yet when the pod launched, and he fell back onto Mathias' lap. "Dammit."

"Ah, just sit tight, will you? It's only about a six minute flight," Arthur laughed.

"Shit, I'm glad we got away from those two fuckers."

"Me too." Gilbert nodded. "I love beating up Francis, but I hate it when Ludwig gets all mother-hen on us!"

Mathias shifted in the chair and cuddled Lovino close like a child. "Comfy, my friend?" he grinned.

"Shut the fuck up." But Lovino ruffled his hair and relaxed against him for the duration of the ride.

…

Arthur and Lovino sat next to each other on the rock, waiting for the others. "I hope this is some good plan."

"Will you shut up, bastard? This is all you've been saying for the last three days!"

"Well? Don't you think it's a reasonable concern? He has some bloody bizarre ideas sometimes."

"Here they come," Lovino replied, ignoring that.

When Mathias and Gilbert had climbed up, leaving bags of gear at the base of the rock, Lovino reached out and poked the albino. "So what's the fucking mystery plan, bastard?"

"Kesesese! I think it's awesome, but…we have to all agree. A hundred percent. All right? If any one of us doesn't want to do it, we can't do it. I won't push anybody into it because it might be illegal."

"'Might be' illegal?" Mathias voiced the concern that all of them were feeling. "You don't _know_ if it's illegal?"

"Well, yeah. It's illegal. Definitely. But we might be able to get away with it because everything's still all topsy-turvy from this revolution business. So you just need to tell me if you're willing to take the risk. Listen. You know there's a naval base not too far from here? Next dome over?"

Arthur frowned delicately at him. "Yes?" Already this didn't sound good.

"And you know the school has those special vehicles that are equipped to cross the terrain between domes. They have air supplies and whatever. Like land pods or whatever. I never knew what they were called."

"Yeah, so, what the hell?" Lovino sounded dubious, too.

Gilbert peeked around furtively for eavesdroppers, but there were none. "I think we could take a vehicle, drive to the naval base, and – take a ship."

"_What?_" Lovino yelled. Then: "What?" he said in a hiss. "Steal a goddamn Navy ship? That's fucking illegal, all right."

"Steal a land pod, too?" Mathias added.

But Arthur had grasped the implications. "Of course. The ships were commissioned by the old Government. Not the Resistance. So if we stole a ship now, while everything is still so crazy, they might not notice it's missing."

The brunet punched him in the arm. "Stupid! Not notice an entire missing ship?"

But Gilbert began to smirk. "Aha, my friend, this is where my expertise comes in. I can get into the naval records – I've already done it, as a test – and take the ship off the register. Wipe out any traces of its existence. So the Resistance might not even know this ship existed."

Mathias let out a long, low whistle. "You have an amazing brain, Gilbert. Amazing skills, too."

"Kesesese! I know!"

The four of them digested this. "How do we know there's a spare ship there? I mean, a ship of the quality that we can manage?" Arthur felt rather nervous about this part. What if the only things there were bloody destroyers? How could the four of them do this? Or worse yet, tiny little patrol ships. They'd kill each other, in confinement like that.

"There's an awesome frigate there, the _SS Unicorn_. Fairly new, hasn't seen much action. A little bit big for us, but not crazy-big." He grinned.

"Unicorn?" Lovino spat. "What the hell? I don't want to steal some pansy-ass fairy ship!"

"Hey! Don't get pissy with me, Lovino. It's the only frigate available. I thought a little corvette would be too small for all four of us. At least on a frigate we'd have some space. Anyway, it's not like it's pink and glittery, or anything like that."

"The _HMS Unicorn_ was a famous English frigate," Arthur boasted, buffing his nails on his shirt.

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"I know a lot about English history! I love England." He pouted a little. "Wonder if I'll ever see it again."

Lovino wouldn't meet his eyes. "W-we can try. Someday."

"Aw. You two are just – so – damn – _cute_!"

"Look, you stupid albino idiot, shut up and let's figure out the fucking plan."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Anyway, the _HMS Unicorn_? A ship. You know, actual ships on the water? Like, eight hundred years ago, or something. They must have named it after that one."

The four friends almost instantly fell into a dreamy silence, contemplating the idea of big ships on the water. Water craft hadn't been permitted on Earth's oceans for two centuries, because it was so difficult to monitor and tax the transit. Of course, that didn't stop small operators from piracy, but their boats weren't very interesting. Not like the pictures of pirate ships in online reference books. "Pirates," Arthur then said, in a hushed, reverent tone.

"Pirates!" Gilbert yelled. "We could be pirates!"

"How the hell would that even work?" Mathias replied, poking him. "It's not like in those old pirate stories where you just pull up next to a ship and raid them. How would you get over to the other ship? In a damn pod? How would you even _catch_ another ship? They'd see you coming, easily."

"Party pooper," Gilbert grumbled, but he was still apparently thinking. "There's got to be a way. I'll start thinking about it."

"Yeah, forget about the fucking pirate idea, bastards."

Arthur had a different concern. "If this frigate is that new, are you sure it'll be easy to eliminate from the records? I'm sure they're proud of it, and all that. And – and the company that built it? They'd have a record of it."

"Ah, uh, well," Gilbert grinned, scratching his head, "I, uh, I kind of thought we'd all agree to go through with this, so I already scrubbed it from the record. Both records."

Lovino nearly fell off the rock. "Bastard, you're _such a fucking_ _idiot_! What about the people who are at the naval station now? Obviously they know there's some ship sitting there! They can look out the damn window and _see_ it."

"You didn't let me finish! I put it back. It was just a test. But I know it can be done. If we can get out of Mars orbit without getting caught, I can scrub the record again right away, and we can head to Triton as a home base, maybe repaint it or something, whatever, to camouflage its origins for when we want to dock somewhere else. Get the damn Government insignia covered up, for a start. We can have supplies sent there for us and work out a plan for afterwards. And, before anybody gets stupid about the money it will take to run it, might I just remind you that if we don't have to actually pay money for a ship, we're fine? We have a shit-ton of money from the Spotlight activities, and it's still earning in investments. We just don't have enough to buy a good ship."

"You really did think this all out, didn't you, git?" Arthur was amazed. Sometimes he felt very insignificant next to Gilbert's awesome brain.

"Yep. And…it has a cloaking device," he added, as if this were the cherry on top.

Lovino drew a deep breath but didn't speak.

Gilbert smiled at them all. "So what do you think? Wanna awesomely do it?"

"Let's talk about it some more, bastards."

"Kesesese!"

…

With Adnan's blessing they were allowed to stay in their old dorm rooms during shore leave; since Vladimir and his friend Emil were going to join the Persephone crew, Gilbert stayed in Mathias' old room. In fact, over the next two weeks the school began to settle into a new routine. There was a great hustle and bustle at the school as people shuttled back and forth in the pods with their belongings. New teachers, new supplies arrived from Earth, and some Persephone people enrolled in the school.

Although classes began again, the four friends did not attend. Berwald and Tino saw them flitting around, organizing things, or heading into the town, but generally left them alone.

A month later, Persephone, with Norge at the helm, prepared to depart for Earth orbit. Adnan and Karpusi sent off the final pod together, with Eduard and Cuba in it, and headed back to their new shared quarters.

No one seemed to realize that Lovino and his friends were unaccounted for.

…

_Vielen Dank = "Many thanks."_

_Eduard ending up with Norge is _not in any way_ a foreshadowing for "Estonia's Love Life."_

_If this really was Red Dwarf, Feliks would totally be the Cat. _


	27. Stop and Think

**Stop and Think.**

Arthur was extremely, _extremely_ nervous about this plan. He feared punishment; he feared that something would happen to split them up. Not to mention the fact that he worried about the four of them, as inexperienced as they were, trying to get away with a ship that size, under pressure, and fast. He'd hesitantly tried to explain the depths of his panic to Lovino one evening in the dorm room, but his friend hadn't understood. Hadn't wanted to understand. Lovino was on fire to steal a Navy ship, and overrode Arthur's objections with vehement, excited arguments about screwing the fucking authority bastards.

Arthur had also tried talking to Gilbert – who was so confident in the mission's success that he didn't see the point of panicking – and to Mathias, who understood his fears, but trusted Gilbert to make it all come out right.

And so tonight, the night they were to execute the mission, he sat with his bag of things, near the dock with the Mars Rovers in it, Lovino on one side, Mathias on the other, where they'd been waiting for the school to settle down enough so that they could steal a Rover.

Gilbert, on the other side of Mathias, used his finger to tap out codes on his tablet. "Get ready," he whispered.

The other three stood up and grabbed bags. The Rover was just on the other side of the airlock. Gilbert would open this side of the lock – "Done," he said, and they hustled into it together – and they'd just jump in and go, theoretically. Arthur, palms clammy, found himself hoping the alarms would go off, or that Adnan or someone would be out walking around the area and catch them. Punishment here at Jones would be more bearable than Government punishment at the naval base, no matter which government was actually in charge. He was sure of it.

But all was silent. The second door to the airlock opened noiselessly and the four friends in their stretchy, silent shoes hurried to the first Rover and began packing it full of their things, holding their breath until they could get inside. They didn't want to turn on the air converter out here, in case the noise, or the system, alerted someone.

Mathias was the last one into the vehicle; he pulled the door shut to seal it, and Lovino started the engine and the interior air processors. At a thumbs-up from Gilbert, everyone began to breathe again, and the Rover departed the school.

"Fuck," Lovino wheezed, gripping the steering wheel desperately. "Are you sure they won't catch us?"

"Not unless someone's out watching the area, which is unlikely. The alarms are disabled, and I'll turn them back on once we're out of range." Gilbert did something on his tablet. "There. Registration for this Rover has been eliminated."

Arthur didn't think that was wise, and said so. "At least if they find this abandoned Rover when we're gone, they can get it back to the school. Finding a Rover with no registration at all might alert them to look for other bad activity?" He began to bite his nails.

"Good point, bastard. Put it back," Lovino said. "And tell me which direction to go!"

The planet's dark surface was pitted with holes and craters, and the headlights didn't throw much of a beam. Lovino did his best to swerve around, but the four of them were being tossed around uncomfortably. Arthur, in the back seat, held onto Mathias' broad arm for support, but it didn't help much. "I'm going to be sick," he realized.

"Don't," Gilbert warned him. "We can't open a window. Just deal with it."

Lovino snaked a hand back between the two front seats and Arthur clasped it, grateful for both the support and the diversion. "It'll be all right, Arthur," his friend said, squeezing his hand. "Be strong."

Arthur swallowed – again and again, trying to keep the sensation at bay – and Lovino let go to control the steering wheel again. "H-how long's this bloody drive supposed to take?"

"About an hour. Don't worry." Gilbert twisted in his seat to pat Arthur on the head.

"'Don't worry'? Wanker." Arthur bent forward, groaning, and covered his mouth with his hand. He felt Mathias' hand come to rest on his back, and this gesture soothed him a little; he was able to take his hand away from his mouth and simply groan.

Gilbert and Lovino kept up a pleasant stream of patter as they drove, but the Brit was oblivious. He prayed and swallowed, swallowed and prayed, as they headed towards their looming destination.

…

"Wow," Mathias said, staring at the ship. "That's really the one?"

"That's really the awesome ship!" Gilbert jumped up and down in glee.

"Christ," Lovino muttered. That was a gleaming, impressive, and most of all _big_ ship, and it didn't belong to them. He felt a sudden painful twisting in his abdomen; his heart was already racing. Gilbert had said there were sensor webs around it, invisible to the eye; the albino had already cracked the codes and was poised to shut down that alarm system. And yet Lovino could not deny the sinking feeling in his stomach. Could no longer ignore it. "Bastards, I'm – I'm a little worried about this." He couldn't meet Arthur's eyes. How right his dear friend had been to worry. How asinine this attempt was. Were they truly committed? Maybe they could just go back?

"What's there to worry about?" Gilbert practically danced in the little airlock. "We find some uniforms, we head to the ship, I unlock the systems, and we go! Got the bags?"

But Lovino felt more and more unsettled. He was afraid to try to persuade Gilbert, at first, though he knew Arthur would leap at the chance to abandon the project. Mathias he wasn't certain about. But he had to try. "Bastards, no."

"No what?" Gilbert picked up a bag. "Come on. I'll open the airlock after we get our bags picked up. Ready?"

"Gilbert. _No._ We are absolutely not ready to do this." Lovino put a hand out to the albino's shoulder. "There's no fucking way we'd get away with this. Even if we didn't have to worry about finding uniforms, and evading sentries, and the sensor alarms. Just – just _no._ I'm not going to do it, Arthur's not going to do it, and we're not going to let you two try."

Gilbert stared at him in amazement. "Y-you can't be serious. We've come this far! It's an awesome idea!"

"It's an asinine idea, you idiot."

Arthur, sounding relieved, tried to make peace. "I-it would be awesome, Gilbert. It would. If we were more experienced. But we've never even seen the inside of the ship; we don't know the layout, or the type of command system, or anything. I'm terrified of fucking up the navigation, because I'm only used to the systems on Persephone. And – and that doesn't count the sentries, and all that. What if it's undergoing maintenance or something, and unable to power on? We'd be sitting ducks! So much could go wrong. Please listen to Lovino. Please?"

All three of them stared at him. "Whoa." Mathias' jaw dropped. "I never thought about that. But it must be! Why else would it be on the ground instead of in orbit?"

Lovino took a deep breath and nodded. It hadn't occurred to him, either, and from the expression on Gilbert's face he was panicking just a little, too, now. A little embarrassed, but still wanting to show his support, the brunet slipped an arm around Arthur and pulled him close. He could sense that Arthur was holding his breath.

Gilbert looked up, to where Mathias was biting his lip. "Well?"

"I trust you."

"But you don't really want to do this." It was a statement, not a question.

"I do want to do it. But I think Arthur's right. Lovino's right. For right now, anyway. There are just too many damned variables here, too many opportunities to fuck up. What if we got away safely, erased the ship from the registers and everything, and then found we were complete morons about running it, and we sat dead in space because we couldn't figure it out?"

Gilbert covered his face with his hand. "All my hard work – my awesome idea – "

"It is a bloody awesome idea. But it's an idea slightly ahead of its time, that's all. If we go back and work on studying some more – "

"Listen, stupid! If we don't strike now, by the time we're ready, the revolution will be settled, and it would be harder to steal it!"

Lovino had had enough. And the longer they stood here arguing, the more risk they'd take. "Gilbert, you're outvoted," he said, in a flat, no-nonsense tone. "Let's get the shit back into the Rover. If we get caught now we could say it was a prank or something; Adnan might vouch for us, if we say we were just joyriding around in the Rover. I don't want us getting split up and fucked just because we took on more than we could handle."

Mathias moved closer to Gilbert, and Arthur backed away, scooping up bags. The Dane bent down to embrace his boyfriend. "Come on. Come back with us, and we'll regroup. Nobody wants to get hurt."

"_Scheisse!_ Nobody would get hurt. I can totally deal with all this!"

"You can," Arthur said quietly, "but I don't think I can. I've been so worried. Worried sick."

"Then why the fuck didn't you say something before this? I said we all had to be a hundred percent into it!" The crimson eyes gleamed menacingly in the ambient blue light from the airlock panel.

"I did say something. I said something to each of you, and Mathias was the only one who was vaguely in agreement with me." He bent his eyes towards the ground. "But he didn't want to go against you."

"Don't worry," Lovino told Arthur, hugging him. "I'm sorry I didn't listen. Come on, bastards. We'll go back. We have to figure out some less dangerous plan, or save this same plan for later, when we're better prepared."

Gilbert snarled, but grabbed his bags and followed them.

…

Mathias drove the Rover back. The ride was quite silent. Lovino sat as close to Arthur as he could, holding him. Once again he felt like the world's most selfish bastard. But as the Rover bounced and bumped its way back to Jones, he knew this was the right thing to do. Tonight he would make it up to his friend, when they were alone and he could apologize. Again. Dammit. It always seemed like he was doing shit to hurt Arthur!

Surprisingly, the blond didn't seem to be bothered by nausea on the return trip. Maybe that had been due to nerves. Fuck, Lovino hated himself sometimes. Why hadn't he admitted the folly of this plan sooner? He'd always known it was too much for them to handle. But he'd wanted so badly to get away with something illegal that he'd suppressed his – his fucking _conscience_, he supposed. And so now they'd come to this. Shit.

He watched Gilbert stare out the front window. The albino's expression had been pissed off, sour, vehement, when they'd left the naval base. At some point it had softened into resignation. Every now and then a look of irritation would cross his face, and he'd peek at Mathias, and sigh. Dammit. Lovino hoped they would be able to get through this. He didn't want to lose Gilbert and Mathias as friends, but he wouldn't sacrifice himself or Arthur just for their crazy plans.

At length the Rover pulled back into the Jones airlock. "Did you shut off the alarms, bastard?"

"Yes, yes," Gilbert snapped. "Let's get out of here."

"Got everything?"

A visual check confirmed that they had it all. "Okay, run!"

They ran.

By the time they'd reached Mathias' dormitory, there were no sounds of pursuit, but everyone was winded from sprinting with the heavy loads. "Hey. I think we'll be all right," Lovino said, slowing down.

"Yeah." Gilbert nodded. "Listen. I – thanks. I think you were right."

"We'll talk about it later, bastard. Get up to the room before we're caught. We're out past curfew, so, we might get in trouble for that even if they never find out about the fucking Rover."

"We'll see you at breakfast." Mathias nudged Gilbert with his elbow and they went inside; Arthur and Lovino went to their room a little more leisurely, without speaking.

Inside the room they dumped their bags without turning the lights on. "This is beginning to seem like a routine," Arthur tried to laugh, but Lovino just grabbed him to hold on.

They stood together under the camera. That aspect of the security system had been dismantled almost immediately, so they were no longer worried about being spied upon. "I'm so sorry. You were so cautious and right, and I didn't listen."

"I'm just glad you changed your mind before we got any further. Thank you for speaking up. I was _so bloody scared_."

Lovino caressed the blond hair. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything." Arthur hugged him tightly.

"When I get like that, kick the shit out of me, all right? I'm too selfish and stupid to see." He blinked tears from his eyes.

"I – I tried."

Lovino knew he'd tried, and held him tighter. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. We'll get through it. Gilbert will understand eventually, and we'll make a new plan."

"Yes." Lovino drew him to the bed. "Now let's relax together, for a little while. I need to come down from all that anxiety shit."

"Now _that_ I can help you with." Arthur grabbed him by the belt buckle and pulled him close. "Let's forget about all of it."

Lovino agreed. And since they had all that adrenaline in their systems, the two of them had a very energetic night.

…

In the morning they headed down to the refectory, trying to act nonchalant, and Mr. Karpusi intercepted them. "The principal…wants to see you…now," he said, in his slow, dreamy voice.

"Now? Can't we have breakfast first?"

"Now…" Karpusi drifted off towards the coffeepot.

Arthur and Lovino shrugged at each other and went to Adnan's office.

Gilbert and Mathias were already there, as well as Tino and Oxenstierna. Dammit. _Dammit!_ But they all greeted each other pleasantly. Lovino clamped his mouth shut.

"I'm wondering just where you boys took that Rover last night," Adnan began in a conversational tone, steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows on the desk.

Shit! He schooled his face, but stupid Gilbert didn't bother. "Rover? What? What Rover? What are you talking about?" But his voice was too eager, too harsh; it was obvious that he was faking it.

"Please don't play coy with me, Mr. Beilschmidt. We are aware that the four of you left the dome in a Rover belonging to the school, that you were gone approximately two and a half hours, and that you came back after curfew. We do still have some monitoring systems in place. Now, you may think that my prior treatment of you and your friends means that I've got a soft spot for you, but this lenience cannot go on."

"We're not actually under your jurisdiction anymore," Gilbert told him, and Lovino rolled his eyes. The stupid idiot!

Adnan's answering smile was amused. "Actually, you'll find that you are. All of you are still committed to the school system. None of you bothered to withdraw yourselves from Jones enrollment. And you've been staying here, in our dormitories, eating our meals, and not attending any classes. I believe that puts you in a very bad spot, even without the illegal use of the Rover."

Lovino knew he had to step in before Gilbert dug this hole deeper. "Sir. You're right. You have all been very good to us, perhaps better than we have a right to expect." He met Mr. Oxenstierna's eye and nodded. "We didn't realize we'd need to formally withdraw from Jones, it's true. I suppose we can take care of that today?"

Adnan nodded. "Certainly. But in that case you can no longer stay in the dorms or eat at the refectory."

"Why'd y'take th'Rover?" Oxenstierna demanded, instead of allowing that discussion to continue.

Shit, yes. Oxenstierna was in charge of the fucking Rovers, too. If they'd damaged or lost it – "We were bored," Lovino shrugged, acting cooler than he felt, hoping nobody else would panic or contradict him. "We heard about those Rovers before and wanted a little adventure, so we went out in one. S-sorry."

"I can only assume that Mr. Beilschmidt's expertise got the Rover out of the school grounds. You really do have an impressive skill set. It would be nice to think those skills were being put to good use somewhere."

Tino cleared his throat. "I know Arthur has been studying for his navigation exams. Did you pass?" he inquired.

Arthur nodded; Lovino and Mathias both smiled at him, but Gilbert was still frowning.

"'N I know L'vino's been workin' on m'chanic'l systems. Sounds like th'four of you have a plan."

Lovino opted for honesty here. It might help. "Sirs, we do have a plan, but we're not sure how to accomplish it. We want to own a ship someday. That's why we've divided up the various skill sets and have been studying." He tried to make himself look meek; this was annoyingly difficult. But at least the albino bastard had calmed down somewhat.

"I did wonder." Tino began to pace in Adnan's office. He paced a lot, Lovino remembered. Maybe it helped him think. "Sadik, what can we do here?"

"It's up to you boys," the principal addressed them. "I'm – not _willing_, but _prepared_, to consider your cases closed as of right now, providing you toe the line and attend classes, or else withdraw from the school system and leave Jones Academy. You can live in the town, go back to Earth, whatever you like. But if you break the rules again – " He left the threat dangling.

"May we have some time to think about it?" This was the first thing Mathias had uttered since this meeting had started.

"Yes, of course. In fact, it being Saturday, take the whole weekend. Be here Monday at the start of classes to give me your decision."

"D'y'think y'll all want t'do the same thing? Y'might split up 'n' go y'r sep'rate ways?"

"I hope not," Arthur blurted out, and finally Gilbert smiled.

"I agree with Arthur," he said quietly.

"Then go." Rising, Adnan made shooing motions with his hands. "Go put your lives in order, and stop breaking rules!"

They went.

…

"We are _really _lucky," Mathias said in tones of amazement. They sat outside the diner where Gilbert had worked last summer, drinking thick milkshakes, which this diner did incredibly well. "I mean, shit, we could have been in so much trouble, so many times this year. But they seem to like us enough to let all this stuff slide."

"Hey, we're likeable chaps," Arthur laughed. "You know?"

Lovino's mouth twisted in a grimace. "Maybe _you_ are. I'm not. Not really."

"Aw, Lovino. You know we love you." Gilbert slung an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek while the Italian struggled to get away. But now he was laughing.

"Seriously, though, I think it's probably because we're rebellious, and they were rebellious, too. Joining the bloody Resistance, yeah? They see themselves in us."

"Yeah, well, that's fucking great, but what the hell are we going to do?"

"Been thinking," Mathias said slowly. "About the money. The plan."

But when he didn't go on, Lovino kicked him. "Well?"

"People don't pay for transport vehicles in cash. Right?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Will you just say what you're talking about? Without the little quiz?"

"Fine." Mathias grinned at them. "When someone wants to buy a transport – if it's a car, a pod, a ship or whatever – these things are always very expensive, and only certain people can afford to pay cash. Most people get a loan. Why couldn't we get a loan to buy a ship?"

Lovino's eyes widened in disbelief. "Well, first of all, bastard, we'd still need to get the fucking money to pay off the loan. Unless you mean skip town in the ship and outrun the creditors all the rest of our damn lives. Which puts us right back to illegal activity, which I don't want to consider."

"Let him finish." Gilbert leaned over to hug Mathias this time. "Talk. Obviously you have some kind of real idea about it."

"Yeah. Why don't we start a transport service? We can buy a ship, and we can either take people, or packages, or both, to places where they need to go! Space places, I mean, not like between cities on Earth. Personalized space transport costs money, and if we got the right kind of ship, we could charge an arm and a leg for it. We might be able to make back the loan money in a couple of years, and meanwhile, live off the money that's still in the investments?" Mathias scratched his arm. "I mean, I know that money is all yours, not mine, but if we're staying together – "

"Don't worry about that, bastard." Lovino leaned his head back against the top of the chair. "I like this idea, because it's all legal, and we don't have to worry about getting caught and punished."

"Well, though," Arthur worried, "what if people use us in their criminal activities, or whatever? Like, shipping illegal stuff, or criminals trying to flee justice?"

"That's not a problem. If we do this ourselves, we can make up awesomely strict rules about things, so we don't get burnt that way. Plus, you know I can research anyone trying to hire us, and make sure they're on the level." Gilbert nodded. "This is a pretty good idea, assuming we can get the loan. It's got the space pirates appeal with none of the risks."

"Except regular old risks like ship maintenance and whatever, which we should be able to deal with, or hire someone to help with," Mathias added. "This way we can pick out our ship – probably not that flashy one we customized online, but something smaller – and take our time learning it, without the pressure we would have had with the Navy one. Or, you know, we could even get a used ship, to save money, and then upgrade later, when we're rich from the business." He grinned.

"The only thing," Gilbert considered, "the only thing I can see that might be, well, not 'bad' per se but just boring, is if we keep getting the same destinations over and over again. I'd like to see a lot of different places."

"That's not really a problem for now, though. We'd only have to start worrying about that after, say, a year of working." Arthur's eyes turned out into space. "We could deal with it for a year and then revise the plan."

Everyone turned to Lovino for his response, and this irritated him; he flushed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Dammit, quit staring."

"But you are the boss, you know." Arthur poked him. "What do you think?"

Everyone waited while Lovino thought. Irritated, he thought about being the goddamn _boss, _and then he figured _the hell with that_ and considered Mathias' idea.

"Sure," he finally said. "Because, first of all, I don't want to live in this dumb town, and second of all, I don't want to start going back to classes at Jones. I want to get away from this fucking miserable rock entirely. Do you think Adnan can help us get back to Earth, or Jupiter, or wherever we need to be to get a ship?"

"Lend a pod, you mean? Probably. We can always pay him for it. That ought to smooth things over." Gilbert drummed his fingers on the table, a habit he'd picked up from Lovino. "We need to un-enroll, or whatever they called it, and then get a pod to Jupiter, or somewhere else to get a ship. Do you still have that eighty thousand in the bank account?" he asked Arthur.

"Should do. Haven't needed to take any out. We can go see."

The albino rose. "Yeah. Let's go look. Should have been earning a little interest by now; maybe a couple extra grand?"

"Okay, bastards. Let's get the finances in order and then go look for ships. We can make our final decision later, if we find out about the fucking ship costs and loan processes."

"Er." Arthur cleared his throat. "We're all minors. How are we going to get a loan?"

"I'm not a minor anymore," Mathias smiled. "Turned twenty last week."

"Bastard! Why didn't you say something?"

Gilbert was even more appalled. "Mathias! You goof!" He punched the Dane in the arm. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whined.

"Didn't think it was that important, really. But – but I can be the signatory on the loan, if you trust me."

"We trust you, stupid. Will you get that through your thick Viking skull?" Lovino smiled at him. "And happy birthday."

"Happy birthday," Arthur echoed with a grin.

"Happy birthday – _my ass,_" a grumbling Gilbert finally said. "Don't be a dick about it next time, all right? We could have had an awesome party!"

"With what? Stew and fucking party hats?" Lovino snorted and poked the albino.

"Oh, shut up, all you little underage boys. Come on. Let's go to the bank." Mathias rose, towering above them all.

Arthur smiled. "Yes, Granddad_. _Whatever you say."

In the bank, their friend Mr. Laurinaitis was behind the counter, blushing, as a flirty, red-satin-clad Feliks simpered at him. Hah! Lovino snorted aloud, but he was too far away for them to hear, thankfully. He elbowed Arthur, who grinned, and the two of them approached the long stone countertop with Gilbert and Mathias drifting behind them. "Good morning," Lovino said politely.

"Hey, like, hi!" Feliks turned and threw his arms around Gilbert. "Totally awesome to see you guys! What are you, like, doing here?"

Mr. Laurinaitis seemed taken aback by this. "We – we have some banking to do," Lovino managed to say without laughing. He gave Gilbert a look, and the albino dragged Feliks off out of earshot, gossip already flowing between the two of them and Mathias.

"He's rather flamboyant," Arthur explained with a laugh.

"So I'd gathered. What can I do for you boys?" Laurinaitis pushed a hand through his hair, mussing it up.

"We'd just like to check on our balance."

"Of course. I'm sure things are a little higher, since it's been earning a little interest." The bank manager tapped out some codes on a tablet. "Yes. Eighty-two thousand. Here are the transaction details." Laurinaitis handed Arthur the tablet; he and Lovino scanned it.

It all seemed reasonable, just the principal and interest, and no new deposits. "Thanks," he said, shaking Laurinaitis' hand. "I-if we needed to get a loan, can we do that through you?"

"Hard to imagine why you'd need more than eighty thousand!" Laurinaitis laughed heartily.

"Well, if we did." Lovino tried to keep his voice calm, but he was irritated at that nosiness.

"Yes. Any bank branch could handle that."

Arthur shook the man's hand. "Thank you. We'll be in touch."

They waited for Gilbert and Mathias to break away from the wildly-chattering Feliks. "Like, see you later!" that blond called out, flipping his hair back and returning to the bemused bank manager.

"Totally," Arthur said with a wave, as the four of them walked excitedly out the door.

…

_Thanks to everyone who's still reading my stories (this or any other one). I'm glad so many people seem to enjoy them. Your comments always help! Even if you don't review, just seeing the hit counter go up is encouraging._

_Now, about this Navy ship: there really was no way it would all go so seamlessly. Perhaps in our world, they _might_ have been able to do it (in a Mission: Impossible type of way), but in a paranoid society where the technology is much more advanced, there would doubtless be so many safeguards that it would never work. One or more of them were bound to get caught, and that would lead to chapters of painful drama that I didn't want to write and probably couldn't do convincingly. And despite Gilbert's skill at eliminating the ship from the records, I felt they'd need to be 'on the run' for the rest of their lives, which was kind of annoying as far as future plot directions go. So for now, they will be pursuing this idea of running an interstellar transport service. I'm not sure whether it will work out, but it's bound to be at least safer than the "steal a Navy ship" plan, and I can write the space adventures!_

_Somehow I keep picturing Feliks in a short pleated skirt, swishing his hips while standing at the bank counter, and Toris getting very confused by this. _

_Aaand…yeah, technically Gilbert would have the earliest birthday in the year (January 18), then Lovino (March 17), Arthur (April 23), and Mathias (June 5), but I wanted to make Mathias the eldest. Gilbert's already got too much of the limelight, and Mathias not enough._

_Thanks again for your support._


	28. Honorable Dealings

**Honorable Dealings.**

"Thanks again for everything," Arthur said seriously, shaking the principal's hand. "We know we didn't deserve all your kindnesses."

"Don't worry about it." Adnan and Tino had come to the dock to bid the four friends goodbye. Oxenstierna, of course, was already there. A rented pod had been shipped to Jones for them, which would return them to Earth.

They'd dithered for days between choosing the flashy ship firm on Jupiter and an older, established one on Earth.

Gilbert: But the Jupiter one is a new company, just like we want to be. So we should support the new guys!

Lovino: Stupid. The Earth one has been in business longer; their ships are safer.

Mathias: We don't know that. And I might get arrested if we go back to Earth!

This had led them to approach Adnan, to explain some of their plans and find out whether Mathias' record could somehow be eliminated. The ever-affable Tino had spoken to some contacts via sat-mail and eventually gotten the Dane's name cleared.

Mathias: Okay. So we could go to Earth.

Arthur: I want to go back to Earth. Just once. I feel very – very dispossessed, that I was shipped off without knowing I wasn't supposed to return.

And since Arthur wanted to go to Earth, both Gilbert and Mathias knew it was pointless to argue. Lovino would push for it, to please the Brit, and really, they didn't have that much of a problem with it. They knew they'd get to Jupiter someday.

Now Gilbert and Mathias took their time packing the bags into the pod while the other two spoke with the school staff. "Sir, thank you for your good care of me," Lovino said, surprised at how emotional he felt about leaving. He and Oxenstierna shook hands. He blinked a few times. This dock air was too dry, dammit. How had he never noticed that before?

"Y'r welcome. Wish y'all the luck y'can find."

Tino shook hands with both of them. "Please don't forget to deliver that package." He'd given them a small box to deliver to someone in Finland.

"We won't." Arthur turned back to the pod, to see that Mathias was packing the last bag into the back. "But we should go."

Lovino nodded and stepped closer to the vehicle. "Thanks again, and I hope things go well here at Jones."

"Goodbye," Adnan told them, waving a little, as the four of them climbed into the pod.

"Kesesese! Maybe we'll see you again someday! Bye, and thanks again!"

Arthur shut the door and strapped himself in, preparing to examine the controls. Next to him, Lovino watched with pride as he did this and that, checking a gauge here, a readout there; the pod launched.

Mathias, however, was very silent. "You okay, Viking bastard?" Lovino spun his chair around to see Gilbert gazing dreamily into Mathias' blue eyes. "Will you two cut out that lovey shit?" He punched the arm of the seat.

The Dane put his hand over Gilbert's grinning face and pushed him away with a little laugh. "I'm still a little nervous."

"Hell, yes, we know. We wouldn't risk taking you back to Earth if it weren't safe, though, stupid. You'll be all right. The albino idiot has the certificate to prove it."

"Heh. Even if he didn't, he could hack in and fake one," Arthur laughed, not taking his gaze off the navigation dials.

"Look. All three of you are annoyingly suspicious," Gilbert then snapped at them. "Damn it, every time we want to do something you all look on the bad side of things! Be more optimistic." He smirked at Lovino. "Besides, you've got the awesome me here, so…what could go wrong?"

"Everything!" his friends chorused, not without some laughter.

"Seriously, though, bastard, you can't just go floating through life expecting everything to be perfect. You know?"

"Although it would be nice to think that we've been through all the bad shite, and we're going to have some good times ahead of us. Successful times." Arthur finally finished his inspection of the system and turned his chair around.

Mathias was nodding at that comment. "Yeah. Well, if we end up getting our ship, we can at least be away from everyone else and not have to worry, for a little while."

"Until the first fucking payment is due."

"I'm – kind of glad we're going to Earth to get a ship." Arthur examined his fingernails. "I kind of had the feeling we'd never get to see it again. I – I want to touch down, one last time, just – just to close the loop, you know?"

"We know. You said." Lovino sighed. "But yeah. To really know that it would be our farewell."

"It doesn't have to be farewell! We can awesomely go back, you know."

"Fucking optimistic idiot."

"Will you two shut it? This is going to be a bloody long pod ride. I'm not in the mood to listen to this all the way there."

"He started it," Lovino and Gilbert snapped in unison, and then all four of them relaxed with a smile.

"Yeah. Sorry, Artie." Gilbert nudged him with his foot. "But…uh…nobody's suspicious of that package? I'm surprised you all agreed to take it."

"Suspicious of Tino? How? I mean, what the fuck could he possibly be doing that was illegal? He's such a damn nice guy."

"Doesn't mean it's not illegal." Arthur shrugged.

"Shit," Lovino muttered, shading his eyes. "If he's backstabbing us – "

"Open it up and we'll see," Mathias suggested. "Get it out of the back, Gilbert."

But Gilbert didn't want to. "Wh-what if someone finds out we tampered with it?" He glanced briefly at the box out of the corner of his eye. "We don't have anything to close it with afterwards."

"Now who's a suspicious wanker? Maybe it's just a test. Maybe bloody Tino is testing to see if we open it."

Now all four of them stared at the box as if it contained something explosive. "Uh," Lovino said, unable to come up with anything better.

"Don't open it." Gilbert decided this and turned his chair away so he couldn't even see the box. "Just don't. We were given it in good faith, and we'll deliver it."

"Yes, but, fuck. What if it is something illegal?"

"What if it's something to get us in trouble on purpose? Information about our escapes, or whatever?" Arthur started biting his nails, which Lovino hated to see, so he reached out and grabbed his friend's hand. The blond gave him a very sheepish look.

What the hell. They might as well keep holding hands. Lovino tried to seem nonchalant as they faced the other two bastards.

"It's too lightweight to be a tablet or other tech," Mathias pointed out. He picked the box up. Gilbert turned his whole body away from it, and his friends laughed. "Maybe it's just an empty box? Maybe he just wants to see if we deliver it."

"Did any of you gits tell him about our transport service?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Didn't want to jinx it."

"Didn't want him pointing out reasons we'd fail," Lovino added with a grimace.

"Never occurred to me." Mathias flung the package back onto the pile of gear.

"M-maybe the school security cameras really weren't disabled, and they've been listening to us? He'd know about it, then." Lovino's blood ran cold at that. There were plenty of things he wouldn't want snoopers to know about, and the transport service was the least of them!

"Look, it's really too late to worry about any of this. Let's just be strong, stay together, and do what we think we have to. If we keep getting suspicious about every little thing, we'd be totally insane before the year is out!" Gilbert leaned over and tried to poke Lovino, but he was too far away.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, flinching from the poking finger.

"Are you kidding? Okay, let's think. Suspicion: the shipbuilders are going to put monitoring devices in the ship and listen to everything we say and watch everything we do."

"Fuck."

"Even worse: shipbuilders intentionally build malfunctioning ships, and we die in space."

"What? What the hell kind of suspicion is that? Bastard, you have some weird ideas."

"Just trying to point out some things we could be suspicious of, but we shouldn't. You know? You guys do need to have a _little_ optimism."

"I'm optimistic," Arthur grinned. "I'm optimistic that we'll find the world's most perfect ship, and be able to run it, afford it, instantly set up a highly-in-demand transport service, make a ton of money, and retire early so we can flit around the solar system together, drinking fresh mango juice and basking in the rays from the nav console."

By the time he'd finished that, even the sour Lovino was laughing. "Bastard." He squeezed Arthur's hand. "I'm optimistic that someday Arthur's head will come out of the clouds."

Mathias cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about something else, too. I'm going to study medicine."

"Eh?" Arthur stared at him.

"Well, it's a good idea! Someone's bound to get sick at some point, or hurt. We could use a doctor, and other than generalizing in ship maintenance I haven't been applying myself much. It – it just seemed like a sensible idea." He blushed a little.

"It's an awesome idea. But are you interested in it? I mean, if you hate it, or you get queasy at the sight of blood – " Gilbert interrupted himself. "Oh. Right."

"Yeah, bastard. I don't think that's going to be a problem," Lovino laughed.

"I – sometimes I do, though." Mathias gripped the arms of his seat. "But I still think it's a good idea."

Arthur's smile was fond. "It is. And – and we'll try not to get sick, too."

Mathias grinned. "Let's just roll with it. All right? We'll get through."

"Fine. We just need to be careful we're not doing anything illegal ourselves, so we can at least stand up and be proud of being clean, if they arrest us." Gilbert turned back to eye the package, and then turned away again.

"Why the hell would they arrest us? If we weren't doing anything illegal? Dammit, sometimes all you bastards make my head spin!"

"You're the one who wants me to be more damn suspicious!"

"Ten minutes of silence," Arthur demanded, and got it.

…

After making the package drop to a mail service in Helsinki, the four friends found transport to Berlin. Gilbert was really excited, because they were going back to the Fatherland! He couldn't understand why neither Mathias nor Lovino cared about going back to their hometowns. Well – he could kind of understand about Mathias. Lovino had never cared to share much about his home life, so maybe there was some bullshit there that he didn't want to revisit. And Arthur had opted out of a visit to London, saying he wasn't ready to deal with it yet. But he'd made them promise to come back sometime later, so he could say his last farewells to the city where he'd grown up.

Gilbert flashed the brunet a smile as they got off the transport train. "Kesesese!"

"What are you grinning at, albino bastard? You always look so creepy."

"Not always," Mathias said archly, hugging his friend.

Arthur grabbed him by the arm and pulled them apart. "Hey. Hey!"

"What? Can't a man hug his boyfr—" But then the friends grasped what the Brit was driving at. A man _shouldn't_ hug his boyfriend in public. Not here on Earth. Mathias stepped back from Gilbert, who let out a silly laugh.

"Come on, forget it. Let's find our hotel." Lovino hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and gestured down the street.

For safety – and to allay the suspicious fears of the others – Gilbert had agreed the four of them should share a hotel room. Lovino had been eagerly reading news reports on one of Gilbert's tablets since their arrival, and it seemed like this revolution had led to a state of semi-anarchy that hadn't yet settled down. It had now been four months since the coup, and people were rioting against the Resistance because everything was still up in the air. But Resistance sympathizers were counter-rioting; there were now supply problems with food and fuel, and it was getting increasingly difficult to manage anything. It had only been through Gilbert's skillful research that they'd found a working transport train, and then a seemingly-safe hotel.

"I hope we can get this business done as soon as possible," Arthur said, shivering as he crawled into one of the hotel beds fully-dressed. He'd explained that he was even more worried than usual, worried that someone would come in the night to harm them, somehow, and he wanted to be ready, not fumbling around in his underwear like an idiot.

_Scheisse_, all this distrust was contagious! Gilbert too climbed into bed with all his clothes on. "Right. Tomorrow. Awesome bank first, awesome ship second."

"Wait," Mathias wondered. "Why bank first? Shouldn't we line up the ship and then go get the loan?"

"I – I might have some money to contribute," Lovino said in a shy voice, climbing into the bed with Arthur. "It's at a different bank, but I'm willing to put it to the cause. But I don't know how much it is. I'll have to go to my regular bank to find out."

"I don't have any money." Arthur's voice was meek in the dark.

"Don't worry about it! Kesesese! We'll be able to do it. We should go to the bank first and get some statements or whatever, verified things to tell the ship guys how much we have to spend. Then after we get the ship lined up, back to the bank, I guess? Whatever. We'll figure it out."

"Sure will. Goodnight, everybody." Mathias blew a kiss to the room in general.

"Good night, gits."

"Good night, bastards."

"Good night, awesome ones!"

Mathias laughed as the circle came back to him. "Okay. Good night."

"Kese—"

"Dammit! Shut up!"

Everyone shut up.

…

The oily salesman showed them only three ships, in the end. One was merely a model; they'd have to have theirs custom-built based on its specs. Mathias had argued that this was good, because it would give them time to earn more interest in the bank accounts, but the other three worried about spending an extended time on this unsettled Earth, wasting money on hotel rooms, and so on.

The second was a small, new ship, fast and light, with the latest systems. Built for a crew of six, it had sleeping facilities for twelve and reasonably spacious common areas like a dining room and recreation area. It was a little more expensive than they wanted to pay, but they'd all agreed it was perfect. It had actually been built for the old Government as an executive transport ship. After the revolution, the new Government saw no need for it, and it had been sitting in dry dock for the last few months.

And the final one was a used ship that the company had taken in trade. It was bigger than they thought they could handle, but it was affordable and still had some warranty time remaining. And, as Gilbert had pointed out somewhat acidly, it was still smaller than the _Unicorn_ had been, and they'd been willing to handle that one. So this probably wouldn't be too bad.

The four friends asked for some time to discuss this amongst themselves. The salesman left them in the facility's cafeteria to talk it over, promising to come back in an hour.

"So?" Lovino drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Shit. Not an easy decision.

"The new little one," Gilbert countered immediately. "It's great! It's sized perfectly."

Mathias shook his head. "Two possible drawbacks. One, the money, of course, and the other is, if it was built for the old Government, maybe it's got security cameras and shit that are intrusive."

"He said they'd give us an exhaustive tour of the systems, though. Somebody could deal with that, right? Spot the tech and get rid of it?" Arthur seemed unconcerned.

"Yeah. They need to disclose things like that, and we can either get them to disable it, or we can do it once we're launched. But you're right, bastard. The money is a problem."

"Say rather it _might be_ a problem." Gilbert was tapping on his tablet. "Because they might come down a bit in price. If they're desperate to unload it, because they built it for a customer who no longer exists, they might take a price cut just to get rid of it."

"We shouldn't count on it, though. What about the used one, idiots? Wouldn't that be better? We can afford it."

"Seriously? Lovino, I can't believe you'd want to buy that used ship. It's so _old_. Kesesese! I mean, yes, we can afford it, but that's about the only plus. It's so big it would cost a lot more to run, and it really needs a bigger crew. We probably can't afford to hire anyone yet."

"I don't want to hire anyone anyway." Arthur fidgeted a little. "I thought this was for us to get away from it all. Maybe we should just forget all this and go to Triton, like we'd originally planned."

"Bastard! You're the one who said _not_ to go there!"

"Ah, Lovino, you know what I mean. It'd be – it'd be easy, and safe, and we know we can live there with the money we have, and be free of observation and dependence on others. That's all."

Gilbert leaned over and hugged the Brit. "Come on, Artie. We can awesomely do this. You realize this isn't the only ship firm in the world. We can hop a pod to Jupiter, you know, and shop there."

"But then we're just wasting all our money on bloody pod travel!"

Each of the four sat thinking about all this.

"Okay, listen, bastards," Lovino finally decided. "Here's what I think we should do. See if they'll take a lowball offer on the Government ship, and if so, let's find out about the damn security cameras and shit. If we can get those two things squared away, let's do it."

"But it is built for a crew of six," Mathias reminded him.

"Shit, yes, but we can do our best. We can just hang out in Earth orbit for a while, getting used to the systems and stuff."

"I'm willing to go with that. But if something goes wrong during the purchase process – if they won't accept our offer, or if it's too much work to dismantle any spy-type rubbish, then we should maybe admit that it's, well, like a sign or something, and not keep pushing to buy it." Arthur's face was red when he'd finished this statement, but he seemed quite determined.

"All right. That works for me." Gilbert powered off the tablet and put it in his bag. "Mathias?"

"Sure. Worst case, we can always trade it in for a smaller model at some point, if it's too much for us to handle."

"Yeah. Good thinking."

…

Ten days later the newly-incorporated Skirmish Brothers, LLC, took possession of their new, small, ex-Government ship.

"Why 'Skirmish Brothers'?" Arthur had asked.

"Hey, we fight all the time! Trivial fighting, but you know it's true." It had been Gilbert's idea to use this name. "And you guys really are like my awesome brothers."

"I don't care" was Lovino's opinion. "It's better than the fucking Fighting Brothers or something idiotic like that."

Mathias had concurred. "Yeah. I can't quite see anyone taking us seriously, if we called ourselves the Fighting Brothers. At least 'Skirmish' has a more – a more _vocabulary_ ring to it."

"Doesn't sound like much of a transport firm, though." Arthur, narrowing his eyes, had still seemed doubtful.

Gilbert had poked him, repeatedly, earning a scowl. "But on the other hand it's really an awesome idea, because if we hate the transport work and want to do something else, we don't have to change the company name. It's vague enough to mean anything. If we were the 'Skirmish Brothers Transport Service' we'd have to change it, if we ever decided to do something different."

In the end Arthur, the only dissenter, had finally agreed, mostly to shut Gilbert up.

Now the four of them were on the ship, busy unpacking their gear before the maiden voyage. "I – I can't quite believe it," Arthur stammered to Lovino, in their shared quarters. "It seems like a dream come true." He shoved some clothes into the closet haphazardly.

"Save it. Save it until we're out of Earth orbit, and not dead, and not being pursued by anybody." But Lovino was fairly optimistic, too. They actually had a package to deliver! The ship salesman had a brother on Jupiter and wanted to send him a crate of foods that were not generally available there. He'd prevailed upon the friends to do this as a freebie, and they'd eagerly agreed. If they had no firm plans after that, they did plan to go to Triton, just as a scouting type of mission. And maybe to go see their – their acquaintances on Mars. Lovino rubbed his face. He wanted to write in his diary, too, but hadn't had time lately. Maybe later. Things were just too exciting now.

Gilbert came dancing into the little room. "Ready yet? Let's get into orbit!"

"Okay." Arthur shoved his bag under his bunk.

"Give me a minute, bastard. Meet in the command center."

Gilbert then danced away with Arthur hot on his heels. Lovino finished unpacking and stood breathing deeply in the small room, a little smile on his face. Dammit, this would be perfect, if it really worked. And – well, if it didn't, at least he and his friends would have fun for a little while. Before they had to sell off the ship in order to afford to eat.

A few minutes later he entered the command center to the sound of angry shouting from all three of the others. "What the fuck are you three yelling about?"

They stopped and turned to face him. "I want to be the awesome captain."

"Git! I should be the captain! I'm the one who knows how to get us where we're going."

"You're both wrong; I should be the captain. Vikings are badass, just the thing you want in leadership. Besides, I know the most about ship-running in general. You two specialized too much."

"You're going to be the bloody _doctor!_ Nobody has a doctor for a ship's captain!"

"Stop yelling at Mathias!"

Lovino stood in amazement as the argument escalated again. _This_ was what these bozos were fighting over? "_Shut the hell up!"_

Obediently they shut up again and faced him. Hah, they looked like three felons in front of a judge. He snorted. Well, he had a solution, but he'd bet it would just make the situation worse. "I'll be the captain," he announced.

Instead of the uproar he'd expected, all three of the others visibly deflated. "Yes, all right," Mathias said first.

Since the dumbfounded Lovino didn't respond, Gilbert added, "That makes the most sense."

Arthur simply said "Git."

The brunet finally got his brain in gear. "What? That's it? Why?"

"Because you're the boss!" they yelled in unison, and then began laughing and hugging each other. Arthur hurried to the navigator's seat and Gilbert to the banks of communications equipment behind them.

"Cleared for takeoff, _Captain Vargas_," Mathias announced in a sarcastic tone, checking a readout.

Dammit. What a bunch of idiotic bastards. But Lovino took his seat in the command chair with aplomb. "Fine. Get used to it, idiots. Let's get the fuck out of here."

…

Later, once they'd gotten the ship safely into standard Earth orbit, Lovino allowed himself some alone time in the cabin, so he could write in his diary. He'd been far too busy – and never alone – to do any writing since they'd come to Earth.

_Scared as hell. Yes, still scared. Everything I do scares me. Maybe we'll die, or maybe I just need to man up and try to be optimistic like Gilbert is always telling me to. The ship works. So far we have had no problems. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping we don't kill each other._

_Mathias is making up some advertisements. We have eight extra bunks, so we could take quite a few travelers. Right now our food stores are limited, because we didn't want to blow a bundle on nonperishables, but we could get fancier shit to serve to paying customers. After we all approve the advertisements, we'll start paying for space with a marketing agency. Shit, this is all so damn complicated._

_I guess it's all part of growing up._

Arthur came shyly into their cabin; Lovino shut the diary, slipping it back into its case. "Problems, bastard?"

"No problems at all. I just wanted to see you, be alone with you for a little while. The ship's in auto-orbit; we can stay here as long as we like without any problems. Well, unless an asteroid tries to crash into Earth or something."

The brunet sat up and patted the bunk beside him. "Come sit. Do you remember my father's letter?"

Arthur snuggled up close. "Most of it. Why?"

Before answering, Lovino kissed him deeply, once again feeling that rush of contentedness that he always felt, the pure peace of being safe with Arthur. "He said he'd converted his shit to more portable wealth. Wondering if the albino bastard could track it and take it from him."

The blond stared at him in disbelief. "For someone so fearful of the law, you certainly think about taking a lot of legal risks. Don't bother with it."

"But we could pay off the ship sooner. I'd bet the bastard had enough to buy this ship outright."

"Don't even think about it!" Arthur grabbed him by the ears and yanked his face around until they were staring into each other's eyes.

"Ow, dammit."

But Arthur ignored that and kept holding on. "Stop. Do you want to risk Mathias and Gilbert too? And – and me?" He softened his angry stance by letting go of Lovino's ears and sliding his hands into his hair, lowering his voice. "Let it go. It's just us, and we can do it. You know we can. There's no easy outs."

Lovino kissed him again, closing his eyes against the accusing emerald stare. "Sorry. I should have known that. But I'm so worried about the money."

"Don't be. We'll work something out, yes? We'll figure it out!" Arthur pulled him close, holding him.

Lovino took a few strong breaths as he relaxed against his friend. "Thank you. Thanks for keeping me sane."

"'S what I'm here for, my love," Arthur whispered, squeezing him.

"Pfft," the brunet laughed, pushing him back on the bunk and unbuckling his belt. "I'll show you what you're here for."

"Oh, go on, Captain Vargas. Give me a blow job."

"You _idiot!_ Way to kill the mood." Lovino sat back, blushing and rubbing his hand over his face. "Shut up about that Captain shit."

"_That's_ what killed the mood? Hah!" Arthur yanked him back down on top of him. "Fine. No more 'Captain shit.'"

Lovino squirmed a little in pleasure. "Deal. Now. Keep me sane."

Mm, yes. Arthur's tongue was the best remedy against insanity that he could ever have devised.

...

_**Note: **I myself am beginning to be a little suspicious of Tino. I'll have to explore his background a little more and see what I come up with. He simply sent a few sat-mails and got Mathias cleared? And that package...hmm..._


	29. Jupiter: Russia Dome

**Jupiter: Russia Dome.**

The first dome built on any outpost was always named after the home country that had built it. Here on Jupiter, Russia Dome, almost two hundred years old, was the largest and oldest offworld outpost anywhere in the solar system, and as a result, it was just like any big city on Earth, with its now-decaying areas as well as its high-traffic vibrant zones. All the boys were looking forward to exploring it. (The dome covering Jones Academy, by contrast, was newish and small; it didn't even have a real name.)

From above the planet, Russia Dome looked like some kind of sick outgrowth. "Buboes," Gilbert said, and Mathias wrinkled his nose. "Well? Look at it! All those little lumpy domes built off the original one, it's like a giant swelling that needs to be popped."

"Urgh! Bastard, you're being disgusting. Shut up about that."

"No kidding. Now I'm going to be thinking about that all day." Arthur shook his head with a grimace.

"Forget it! Focus on the landing, you idiot." But Lovino softened this harsh command with a smile.

The ship had already received permission to dock, and they skillfully managed to bring her into position, because they'd practiced maneuvers in space on the way to Jupiter. All of them were feeling much more confident in their ability to run the ship. Most of the systems were automated anyway.

"We need a name," Lovino now grumbled, bringing up an argument they'd been having for days. "I'm tired of calling the ship by its damn call letters. Somehow the 'FMB2012' doesn't have such a great ring."

"And we need an awesome mascot, too." Gilbert picked up the crate, bag over his shoulder, and headed for the door. "Something cute to paint on the outside of the ship, like pilots used to do in the old days with aeroplanes."

"Right. Something _cute_. How about a fairy?" Arthur's laughter was so loud that Mathias came running up the stairs empty-handed.

"What? What'd I miss?"

"Ah, nothing, bastard. Just the same old discussion about names and mascots. Get your shit and let's go."

The friends would be using the docked ship as a home base, sleeping there each night, but all were eager to get their first glimpse of a new planet, of a dome and city that were legendary on Earth. And of course they also needed to deliver the ship salesman's crate.

Once they'd cleared the dock, they stood outside in the artificial sunlight and stretched. "I am _so excited!_" Mathias had a great big smile on his face. "Everything's been going so well, and – well, wow." He stood on the pathway, gawking at the surroundings, before Lovino elbowed him to get him moving.

"Come on. Crate first, explore later."

"Right." They hustled down the ramp into the receiving area and found an information kiosk. Arthur downloaded a map of the entire dome to Gilbert's tablet and the four of them wandered out into the streets, crowding around it to peek.

"We have to have an awesome party while we're here."

"For what?" Arthur wondered. "Mathias' birthday?"

"Well, yeah, but we also need to celebrate our success so far. And then – _my_ birthday! I'm twenty next week! Kesesese!" Gilbert did a little dance, which was awkward, because he was still holding the crate. Passersby ignored them.

Lovino groaned. "Bastard. Do not tell me that I'm the youngest of all four of us."

"Er – well – when's your bloody birthday? I never asked."

"March 17," he growled, with a sinking feeling in his heart.

"Ah, well, er, no, then," Arthur stammered. "Y-you're older than I am."

Lovino's expression changed to one of pure delight and he hugged his friend with one arm. "Wonderful. My sweet little boy. I'll take good care of you."

"Oh, shut it." Arthur stomped off, leaving his friends laughing behind him.

…

Crate delivered, they continued their wandering after a light lunch of locally-raised foods. "Hey! A museum! History of the Russia Dome." Mathias pointed to a sign. "Can we go?"

"What the fuck for?"

Gilbert turned and frowned. "Isn't the point of all this to see and learn about different places? We should totally go."

"Sure, let's go." Arthur poked Lovino. "Is that all right with you, Cap?"

"Dammit!" He hauled off and socked the Brit in the arm as hard as he could. "Will you stop that shit?"

"You're going to pay for that." But Arthur, rubbing his arm, flashed him a secret little smile that the others couldn't see.

Lovino ran his hand over his red face. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Let's go see the damn history museum."

…

The rest of the day passed in much the same way: wandering, bickering, sightseeing. All four of them felt it hard not to stare like rednecks as they peered into every area of the dome that they could get to. Since Gilbert was carrying some of his gear, they'd avoided the seedier areas, though they were visible in the not-too-near distance.

By nightfall they were all exhausted. Despite Lovino's begging them to visit the biggest casino under the dome, they vetoed this and dragged him back to the ship. "We'll have time, git. We're not going anywhere."

"Which reminds me, we need to find some kind of fucking advertising agency to help us."

Arthur gave him a funny look. "Do we want to do that on Jupiter? Why not back on Earth?"

Gilbert locked the ship doors behind him. "We're here, aren't we? And Russia Dome is almost as developed as Earth is. I bet we could find someone good while we're here, instead of having to go back to Earth so soon. We doing anything now? I have to put the gear away."

"Yes," Lovino decided. "Come to our room. I want to have a meeting."

Nobody had called any kind of an official meeting since they'd left Earth. Arthur wondered what this was all about. Gilbert and Mathias nodded, hurrying back to their room with the bags.

When they came back the brunet gestured them to rest on the floor. Once they were settled, face down like the points on a compass, each of them turned to him quizzically. "Well?" Arthur asked. "This seems like it's bloody serious."

"It – it is. Or, well, it might be. I've been thinking about something and I want to see what you bastards think." He drummed his fingers on the floor, chin in his other hand. "This might be stupid, but it's been bugging me ever since we decided not to open Tino's package."

"What the hell's that got to do with anything?" Mathias laughed and reached across the circle to poke him. "We delivered it, right? And didn't open it, so we can't get dinged for it." He kicked his feet against the floor idly.

"No, listen." Lovino's voice was serious, and he wasn't being profane. This in itself was enough to show his friends it was no joking matter. "Wh-when you met Tino, he told you Oxenstierna was his husband, right? I mean, did he actually use that term?"

Gilbert laughed. "Hell, yes. We kept talking about how weird it was that he'd said that. He definitely said husband. Why? I know it's weird."

"Nh. Listen. Isn't – isn't homosexuality," and here Lovino blushed and covered his face, "isn't it illegal? Or is it just something nobody talks about? I never thought about it much when I lived on Earth, but even if I did, I wouldn't have looked it up or asked anyone; I would have been too embarrassed. I always thought it was illegal."

"So did I," Arthur admitted. "That's why we were so careful back on Earth." And, he remembered, Lovino's father's letter had mentioned that he couldn't get his Government job if he'd had a male lover. That had probably accounted for some of his and Lovino's nervousness.

Mathias and Gilbert both shrugged; the albino jabbed the hard steel floor with a finger as he replied. "Well, either it's not, and we were totally overreacting, or it is, and then either Tino was stretching the truth to make a point, or they got married in some underground ceremony. Why?"

"Tino – well, Mr. Oxenstierna was always very considerate to me." Lovino met the eyes of each of his friends in turn.

"Yeah, me too," Mathias said, "but that doesn't mean he's, uh, illegally gay or something."

"Please let me finish, okay? I have to figure out how to put this into words."

Mathias nodded and Lovino cleared his throat before continuing. "So, well, I'm just wondering about Tino, I guess. Does he have some secret connections? Is he maybe the head of the whole Resistance movement?"

"What? _Tino? _Can't be. He's too young. Didn't they all say the Resistance had been in place for fifteen years or something? If you hold on I'll go get my tablet and we can poke around a little." Gilbert pushed himself off the floor.

"Good idea, Gilbert. Thanks."

Wow. Arthur couldn't remember the last time Lovino had used Gilbert's actual name. He _must_ be serious. The Brit shivered a little; Lovino looked at him in concern and took his hand. He smiled, trying to show support for his friend, and Lovino quirked a little smile in return.

By then Gilbert was back with the tablet. "Okay. Let me look." He began to tap.

But Mathias still seemed confused. "Why would you think he's the head of the whole thing?"

"I just – there are just too many things that worry me. Start with the day we left Mars and go backwards in time: the package, which felt like an empty box. But I can get over that; maybe it was just some paperwork, or a pair of socks for his dad, or something. But before that: Tino, _just_ Tino, managed to get your conviction cleared, with a few sat-mails? Who the hell is this guy? He's got to be connected somehow."

"We don't know that it was just 'a few sat-mails,'" Arthur pointed out. "That's what he said, but he might have been downplaying things."

"Well, either way, he managed to get it done. Why? No offense, bastard, but you did kill the guy, and murder is a crime under any regime. Why would Tino stick his neck out for you? Not just because of fucking Braginsky, I'm guessing." Lovino took a deep breath. "You didn't know Tino before, right?"

"Not that I ever remember." Mathias shrugged.

"And then, before that, running Persephone all that time – which was what, ten damn years? It's like someone said, you don't run a ship like Persephone on niceness alone. And yes, you bastards told me about how everyone _on Persephone_ felt indebted to him – but what about these Earth sympathizers? People sending food and medicines and new tech? How the hell did a runaway from Jones get connected like that? Not through Oxenstierna, who's just a maintenance man. And then step back one more before that: if homosexuality is illegal, how the hell did he get, uh, dispensation or whatever, to marry Oxenstierna in the first place?" Lovino was more fidgety than usual by the time he'd finished this little explanation.

"When you lay it all out like this it does sound bloody suspicious."

"Aha!" Gilbert said, still staring at the tablet.

"What is it, bastard?"

"Ha ha! Tino's really a woman!" Mathias guessed.

"No, no, no. Don't be silly. Well, first of all, I found the marriage certificate and they really are legally married. This took place just about ten years ago. Who knows? Maybe things were different then. Maybe it wasn't illegal at the time."

"Where did they get married? Maybe it was some fucking secret ceremony? Is it in some bizarre hidden archive?" Wow, Lovino was really suspicious! Arthur gave him another supportive look.

"No, this is regular municipal records for Finland. A place called Tornio." Gilbert tapped some more. "Looks like this is a little town on the border where Finland and Sweden meet. I don't think there's any big mystery there. I'll see if I can find out the laws about, you know," he blushed, "later on."

Lovino poked him in the shoulder. "That wasn't really my biggest worry."

_"No!"_ Arthur's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Really?"

"Oh, shut up and don't be stupid. Anything else?" he asked the albino.

"Yes, yes. This was actually the more exciting part of it. Tino Oxenstierna, or Tino Väinämöinen as he was known before the marriage" – Gilbert's tongue tripped over the unusual name, and he shrugged – "whatever, is descended from the last real kings of Scandinavia. Of course, he's just in the cousin line, but it looks like he can trace his descent back to King Karl the Fifteenth, who was king of Sweden and Norway in the late 1800s!" Gilbert delivered this last line with maximum drama, but nobody else seemed impressed.

Everyone looked at the Dane, who shrugged. "I don't know shit about old history like that. Er – well, I do remember that all Scandinavia was united at some point under the kings, but I couldn't tell you when."

"Yeah. Big fucking deal," Lovino snorted. "There haven't been real kings on Earth in three hundred years."

But Mathias thought for a moment longer. "You know, there are a lot of these history bullshitters who keep track of stuff like that, people who consider those the 'Golden Age' or the 'Glory Days' or whatever, and they'll keep polishing the royal silver and hoping for the day kings return. Maybe he's one of them."

"Bunch of shite," Arthur concluded, succinctly.

But Gilbert's crimson eyes were wide. "You guys can't be serious! This is amazing! Descended from kings. Man, I'd love to be descended from a king." His expression grew dreamy. "Maybe I am. Maybe that's why I'm so awesome."

Both Arthur and Mathias smiled at him, but Lovino covered his face in his hands. Arthur snorted. He'd bet that if Gilbert started cackling about how he was descended from kings, Lovino would pull rank and punish him somehow. He poked Gilbert. "Calm down."

"Yeah. Get a grip on yourself, bastard."

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Yeah. I know. Sorry."

"Well, this still doesn't really mean much. Just because he is, or might be, one of these drama-loving wankers with his head up the royal archives doesn't make him anyone to be afraid of. Does it?"

"I don't think this can really account for his help with my conviction. Just because he's some watered-down bastard cousin of a long-dead king – "

"It might. Maybe his family has awesome connections in the Government."

"Not him, dammit!" Lovino poked Gilbert again with a scowl. "He's a Resistance man, remember?"

"Everybody stop poking me!"

Arthur rolled onto his back so he was staring at the room's ceiling, and sighed. "You know, if I had a big family, and I knew what was actually going on in the world, I'd make sure some of my family was Resistance and some was Government. Just to make sure we always had a foot in the leading camp."

There was so much silence that he rolled over again, only to find the others staring at him. "Bastard! That's brilliant."

"It's not brilliant! It's just common sense." He shook his head. "Wouldn't you?"

"I probably would never have thought of it." This admission from Lovino surprised and worried Arthur some more. He was making all of them nervous with this calm and humble behavior.

Mathias poked Lovino this time. "Anyway, so, now what? Are we going to investigate Tino? Find an ad agency? Or go to the casino and blow all our money?"

"Let's just go to bed now," Lovino decided, "or, well, whatever you want; let's just break up the meeting. My head's spinning with all this. I need to let it settle. If you bastards come up with anything else let me know."

Mathias patted him on the shoulder and stood up. "Forget about it. It's not like we're going to run into Tino everywhere we go."

"Hope not," Arthur laughed, rising also. "Don't know if I can keep a straight face, now. 'His Highness, Tino the First, King of the Resistance.'"

"Kesesese! See you tomorrow. Casino?"

"Casino," they all agreed, with smiles.

…

The casino was unlike anyplace they'd ever been before. Loud, with flashing multicolored lights, scantily-clad men and women circulating with drinks trays, music pounding, it was almost too distracting to focus. Visitors, sober and not, swarmed all over the place; the four friends held onto each other to avoid being pushed apart in the flow of people. "Wh-where the fuck do we start?" Lovino wondered, not wanting to come across as provincial.

"Young sirs! Welcome to the Tsar's Palace! Come right this way." A young and very well-muscled blond man, wearing glasses, a brilliant smile, and not much else, gestured them towards an open doorway. With a bit of hesitation they followed him. He offered them drinks from his tray; each of them automatically took one, but no one drank yet.

Inside this smaller room, the sound was turned down a bit. "These are the slot machines," the waiter told them. "Most new visitors like to start out here before progressing to the other rooms. There's a map of the casino on the wall, so you can find the areas you want to go to next." He winked at Arthur, who fidgeted. "Can I – get you anything?" Somehow he managed to make his voice a seductive purr, even over the booming music.

"N-nothing for me," the Brit said hurriedly, and the others concurred. The waiter merely nodded and drifted away to another knot of clients.

Whew. "Bastards, I – I was kind of looking forward to drinking a little, cutting loose, and all that, but – but I'm a little worried now," Lovino confessed in a whisper. "I don't think we should get drunk. This seems like the kind of place where you might go in and never come out again." He set the full glass down on a side table.

"Kesesese! But you're probably right; you don't even need to convince _me_. Smart thinking, Captain." The others hurriedly followed suit.

Lovino didn't even bother addressing that.

"Plus hangovers are a bitch," Arthur agreed.

"How the fuck do you know? You drink?" Lovino was astounded. He'd never considered that Arthur might be a secret drinker.

"Not so much anymore, git. I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. Before I went to Jones I used to go out drinking with some of the older boys in the neighborhood once in a while. But it wasn't worth it. I always felt miserable the next day."

Lovino became sad, thinking of Arthur's friendless life before the two of them had met. "Yeah. You're right." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's just walk around, see what we see."

"I'm not ready to be a power player!" Mathias laughed. "But I'll try a slot machine."

The four of them wandered to the slots. There were three empty machines together; Lovino, who was now skittish about this whole idea, stood back to allow his friends a chance to play. His gaze roved the room as they began eagerly putting credit tokens into the machines.

Quite a mix of people here. He turned further, halfheartedly listening to Arthur's grumbles of disappointment. They'd set a cap on their casino spending tonight. With their finances still so precarious, nobody wanted to risk too much money. Lovino wasn't worried about that. All four of them were on the same page, regarding money.

Hmm. Two bastards at a machine in the corner looked like Vladimir and his friend that used to work in the kitchens. Lovino tried to think back. As far as he could remember, those two had been heading back to Earth. He wondered how they'd ended up in Russia Dome.

Well, what the fuck. It was no concern of his. Vladimir was flushed and laughing, while his friend (dammit! Why couldn't Lovino remember the dumb kitchen bastard's name?) sat with a weak smile on his face.

"_Leck mich am Arsch!"_ Gilbert then yelled at his machine, punching it and recapturing Lovino's attention.

"What? What does that mean?"

"Ha ha, it means he lost his entire allotment of credits already!" Mathias put Gilbert in a headlock and kept laughing.

"Shut up! Get off me. Come on, Mathias, let go! I hate this machine."

"Did you really lose _all_ your credits, bastard?"

"Yes, yes. Let's get out of the damn slot machine room. It's a curse."

Arthur wasn't paying any attention to this. "Six, six, six – _fuck!"_

"You too?"

The Brit sighed. "Me, too." He jabbed the machine with his elbow, and Mathias grabbed his arm.

"Come on. Gilbert wants me to go win a lot of money at blackjack."

The others looked at him. "_Can_ you?" Lovino wondered.

"Possibly. I'm pretty good at it."

"Well, then, what the fuck are we waiting for? Let's go find some awesome blackjack!"

…

"Dammit!" Lovino laughed, hugging Mathias as they all rushed excitedly back to the ship. "Woohoo!"

"Shut it! Do you want some wanker coming after us and beating us up?" Arthur hissed.

Lovino let go of Gilbert and came back to hug Arthur and lean on him, stumbling. "Don't be so worried, loverboy. It's not like we have anything they could steal. The credit's in the account already."

"And they'd have to be pretty stupid to take on all four of us." Gilbert did a pirouette.

"Ten thousand dollars," Mathias breathed with relief. "That's more than three months' payments!"

"I'm just glad you guys left in time. I was worried you'd blow all the money we won!" Gilbert opened the ship doors and shoved them all inside, locking it behind them. "But, man, that was really fun."

"Fun for you," Arthur grumbled. "I didn't win a bloody penny."

"Don't sweat it, little bastard. You did all right." Lovino laughed again.

"We'll see you gits tomorrow?"

"Good night!"

In their cabin Mathias began laughing and laughing before falling onto the bed. "We're so awesome!" he yelled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Gilbert kicked off his shoes and joined him. "You were really great at the blackjack tables. I'm so proud of you. You can totally be our awesome wage earner, until we start getting real business." He put his hands behind his head, thinking. "Nice to see Lovino loosen up a little, too, instead of all his suspicion bullshit, though he was definitely right about the damn casino. I mean, I love the guy, but he freaks me out sometimes. At least we accomplished something tonight, and can breathe a little easier for a few months. I just don't think we should start gambling in every dome we get to, you know? We might get addicted to gambling, and fuck up the future plans. Right?"

Mathias' only response was a gentle snore. Oh, well. Gilbert took his friend's shoes off, washed up, and crawled in beside him to sleep.

…

The meeting with the ad agency was quite fruitful. Their group manager got them a job almost immediately. A Jupiter firm needed to ship some things to Mars. They only wanted to pay standard freight fees, but the friends considered that was better than nothing. Three days later, ship restocked, they took the freight and left Russia Dome.

…

_I was kind of picturing Alfred (America) as the waiter at the casino, but of course it isn't. I said in chapter 1 that he wasn't going to be in this story, but I may have to change that, as I'm running out of characters. So he might appear somewhere, but if he does it will be in a much bigger role than a Chippendales-style casino waiter!_

_Of course "Caesar's Palace" will be called the "Tsar's Palace" under a dome built by Russia. And "Leck mich am Arsch" means "lick my ass."_


	30. Mars: Switzerland Dome

**Mars: Switzerland Dome.**

Arthur clapped Gilbert on the shoulder. "We forgot to have your blasted birthday party."

"Ah, that's all right, Artie. Let's just have a huge party for everything while we're here, and get some work done, too." Their freight delivery had been made, payment received; things were looking bright.

They'd gotten some queries from possible customers, but none of those people had yet committed to anything. Still therefore at a loose end, the friends decided to spend some time here and enjoy themselves. From all reports it was a little more somber than Russia Dome had been, and for that, they were all grateful. Russia Dome had been overwhelming to all of them, sequestered at Jones as they'd been.

Switzerland Dome was quite large, but had been constructed as one big dome and never added onto. It had a much more mature feel to it. The matter-of-fact city under it was a visible reminder of the no-nonsense nature of the host country: cold and clinical, almost the polar opposite of the tiny Jones dome's criminal element and near-anarchy. There were no teeming tourist areas here. Most of the people who lived and worked in the city did so because it was a quiet haven for jobs that could be performed via network. The primary industry here was finance.

As they walked down the wide, well-lit main avenue, the hushed atmosphere began to affect all of them. It was not quiet – vehicles and pedestrians were abundant – yet it gave off a very "touch me not" feeling that made them all nervous. Sleek mirrored high-rises seemed like fortresses built to shield all that money from the prying eyes of peasants. Many well-dressed but intent people scurried past with their heads down, carrying coffee and briefcases, and nobody seemed inclined to smile or even make eye contact. There were no flashing billboards as under Russia Dome, no street vendors, no laughing children or chatting couples.

"W-want to get some coffee?" Lovino pointed to a fancy coffee shop a few steps ahead.

"Sure. Might as well."

Somewhat nervously, the conspicuous, casually-dressed friends entered the shop, ordered coffee, and left, holding the cups. "This whole place is…bloody bizarre." Arthur's voice was a whisper.

"I know! It's almost like a ghost town, except it's so busy." Mathias made a sweeping gesture with his coffee cup. "Like a zombie town. A lot of movement, and not much communication."

"I agree. You'd have to be some kind of id–"

Gilbert's voice was cut off as Lovino slapped a hand across his mouth. "Shut up, bastard. Don't insult these people!" he hissed.

Gilbert nodded and Lovino let go. "Anyway, it's not a very awesome place to live, I think." He stopped walking and craned his neck up to look towards the sky. "This is as bad as Berlin. Too many high-rises."

"Well, nobody's asking us to live here, stupid. Let's walk."

They walked on in silence, speaking only to point things out or to apologize after colliding with curt, rushing workers.

Arthur threw his coffee cup in the trash when he was finished. "Is that Roderich_?_" he wondered, gesturing with his chin towards a man he'd been watching for a little while.

The other three turned to see someone striding away who might have been Roderich. "Too far away to tell." Mathias squinted but shook his head.

"Bastard did say he and the wife were going to live on Mars, but I thought they'd be staying in the Jones dome."

"Kesesese! There's one way to find out!" Gilbert broke formation and pelted down the street. "Rod! _Heeeey, Roddie!_" Everyone within earshot watched him race down the sidewalk, dodging and leaping to avoid running into other people.

The dark-haired man turned at the yell, and even at this distance the other three could see his shoulders sag as Gilbert approached him. "Come on," Mathias laughed. "Let's go rescue him."

By the time they got there, Gilbert was trying to hug Roderich, and the red-faced Austrian was trying to push him away. "Get off him, idiot," Lovino laughed, dragging the albino off by his collar.

"Good morning," Arthur smiled, offering the flustered Roderich a handshake.

"How totally awesome to see you, Rod. Seriously!"

He snapped at Gilbert. "Will you please stop talking to me? I'm on my way to work! What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Uh. Vacationing? Kesesese! Nah, we're here for our business. What about you?" Poke, poke.

"Stop poking. Elizaveta and I live here now. There weren't enough business opportunities in the small dome."

"Oh, right! What about the baby?" Mathias asked. "Did she have it yet?"

"Did you name it after me?" Gilbert added, showing the teeth, flashing his eyes wide.

"Yes." Roderich's voice was completely serious as he faced the albino. "Yes, we did, Gilbert."

Gilbert nearly swooned as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "You named him after me? Oh, my God, that is _beyond awesome. _Yessss!" Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, he had his back to his friends, who were all stifling grins. Roderich kept a sober expression on his face as Gilbert continued to babble. "Is he an albino? I bet he is. Oh, man, you guys, now we really need to have that party! It's – it's like I'm an uncle!"

"Is the baby healthy? And Elizaveta?" Lovino managed to ask this without laughing.

"Yes, they're both fine. My daughter is beautiful." Roderich smiled.

"Daughter? _Daughter?_ Have you lost your mind? You named a girl Gilbert?" The albino held a hand to his forehead. "My friend, that girl is going to grow up with such a terrible complex, no matter how pretty she is!"

"Gilbert." Roderich raised an eyebrow in disdain.

"What?"

"It was a joke! We did not name our daughter after you."

Everyone but Gilbert let loose the laughter they'd been squelching, and he patiently waited until they'd finished. "Well, you should have."

This made Mathias laugh some more, but by now Roderich was now looking unhappy. "Listen, you four. Elizaveta has been starved for company since we moved to this dome and she had the baby. If I invite you for dinner tonight, will you promise to behave?" He glared at Gilbert in particular.

"Do you have a closet we can stick him in, for the duration?" Arthur suggested.

Roderich's eyes widened. "Of course. We have a nice coat closet where he can be sequestered. Very comfortable. He can even make a nest out of the coats to sleep in. I don't mind." He nodded.

"Hey, man, shut up. I can awesomely behave. You know I can."

Arthur began to whistle.

"Oh, stop that, Artie, you know I can!"

Arthur stopped, but no one spoke. Mathias slung an arm around Lovino's shoulders while they grinned and watched and waited.

"Yes," Gilbert finally grumbled. "I promise to behave myself."

"We promise too, bastard," Lovino smiled. "When and where?"

Roderich took the tablet that Arthur was carrying and tapped in some information. "You'll need to speak to the doorman, but I'll let him know you'll be there around six. All right?"

"Should we bring anything?" Mathias wondered. "Wine, or something?"

"There is no need." Roderich handed the tablet back. "I really do need to get to work now. Enjoy your day!" He hurried off towards a dark building glinting in the artificial sunlight.

"Well, that's tonight sorted." Arthur put the tablet back into his bag. "Come on. Let's look for something to occupy us until then."

…

At the front of the group of four, Gilbert rang the doorbell. Elizaveta, looking very pretty in a green dress, opened the door, took one look at him, and slammed the door shut. His friends began to laugh, but the albino was peeved. "She knew we were coming, didn't she? Didn't she? Man, if Roddie forgot to –"

His words were cut off as she reopened the door, now with a gleaming frying pan in one hand. Gilbert backed away, but Elizaveta greeted them politely. "How nice to see you all again. Please come in."

Lovino entered first, taking her hand briefly, then Arthur ditto; Mathias smiled and patted her on the shoulder, but Gilbert refused to come in, hiding around the corner of the jamb.

"Will you step lively, bastard? Don't make her hold the damn door open all night."

"I don't want to get hit."

"Baby." Mathias reached out and grabbed him, yanking him into the apartment. "It's just for show."

Elizaveta scowled and whacked Gilbert halfheartedly. "It was _not_ just for show. I can't believe my husband invited _you_ here. He must be desperate."

"I promised to behave," Gilbert retorted, rubbing his ass.

Elizaveta snorted in an unladylike fashion as she went back towards the kitchen to put the frying pan away. "Roderich's not back from work yet. Please come in and sit."

Arthur really hoped Gilbert would behave. _Could _behave! "M-may we meet your daughter?" He spoke in a soft, polite tone as he sat nervously next to Lovino on a couch.

"Of course." Their hostess left the room.

"Better calm down." Mathias took Gilbert's hand very briefly. "Please?"

He sighed. "Yes. All right."

When Elizaveta came out with the sleeping baby all four of them were sitting like little angels on the stark sofas and chairs. She came to Arthur's side and sat, holding the baby out for his inspection. "What's her name?" he asked quietly, tracing a circle on her pudgy little cheek with his fingertip.

"We named her Lili. After a friend of mine from school. She was my best friend, before I met Roderich." Elizaveta stared into the middle distance. "She ran away, and I have no idea what happened to her. I hope she's safe, wherever she is."

The friends nodded, each well aware of how frightening it would be to lose someone and not know what had happened. "She's beautiful," Arthur smiled at the baby.

"Would you like to hold her?" Elizaveta held her arms out.

"N-no thanks! I don't want to drop her!" He actually scooted a little closer to Lovino, making the others laugh.

Elizaveta got up and gently laid baby Lili into a plain cradle standing in the corner of the room. "May I fix you some drinks?"

But Roderich entered the room before anyone could answer. Gilbert rose, crossed sedately to him, and offered his hand. "Hello, Roderich," he said in a somber tone, though not without a bit of a smirk.

"Gilbert." The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes but shook Gilbert's hand. He then came into the room, rolling his eyes, and pecked a little kiss on his wife's cheek before greeting the other friends. "Is he behaving?"

"He's behaving, bastard. Uh – thanks for inviting us over."

"Let's just see if we can all get through the evening."

Elizaveta escaped to the kitchen. "Things will be ready in about twenty minutes. Please relax."

"Do you need any help?" Lovino offered, rising.

"No, thank you. I can manage." She passed through the archway to the kitchen and he returned to his seated position.

Roderich reopened the conversation by asking them again why they were under Switzerland Dome. Mathias acted as spokesperson, explaining about their fledgling transport service and the need to make the freight delivery.

"So you take people as well? Travelers?"

"We hope to. So far no one's been interested in it; we've only been transporting freight and small packages."

"Still, it sounds like things are beginning to work out."

While they talked, Arthur glanced around the small high-rise apartment. It was in good repair, although slightly older than some of the buildings they'd seen. They'd learned that the less expensive apartments were on the higher floors, because the wealthier people wanted to get to work without a lot of fuss. Roderich and Elizaveta lived on the 63rd floor of this hundred-story building. The view out the window was of a neighboring building, only about twenty meters away.

The place was sparsely, but nicely decorated; other than the furniture, there were soft toys on the floor in the corner and just a few decorative items: a painting, a vase, some candles. He didn't see any tech in the room, and wondered just what it was Roderich did for a living, now that he wasn't working for the Resistance.

"Dinner is ready," the hostess said calmly, interrupting his musings.

Everyone rose and entered the dining room for the meal, Roderich scooping up his daughter on the way.

"Wow. You cooked all this?"

Gilbert had asked that in a perfectly reasonable tone – almost a tone of awe, Arthur considered – yet both their hosts erupted in anger. "Shut up!" Elizaveta punched him in the chest. "I can cook! Don't be so nasty!"

"Gilbert," Roderich added in his stiff tone, "please try to keep that big mouth of yours _shut!_"

"Stop yelling!" Elizaveta yelled at her husband. "You're going to wake the baby!" And of course, little Lili did wake up and start screaming in her father's arms. "Oh!" Elizaveta grabbed her daughter and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Damn you, Gilbert, you are the most insufferable – "

But this was completely unfair, and no matter how polite he was trying to be, Arthur wouldn't let it pass. He interrupted, taking Gilbert's arm reassuringly. "I don't think he was being insulting, Roderich. Were you?" he asked his friend.

The stunned Gilbert stood in the center of the room, rubbing his chest with his other hand. "No! Boy, do you two have sticks up your asses. I was being complimentary, because none of us can cook."

"Speak for yourself, bastard."

This almost disrupted the conversation again, because everyone turned to look at Lovino. But Arthur had to straighten this out. He appealed to Roderich again. "Gilbert promised to behave, and he – he's behaving! He's not trying to insult or annoy you."

"Not any more than usual," Mathias laughed, ruffling the white hair. "I mean, we can't expect a miracle."

"Rod, I did promise. I think you two are overreacting. And – and look at all this!" He gestured to the table. "This looks so awesome. I was impressed, that's all."

Their host heaved a huge sigh and went to the table to sit down. "Please, sit, everyone."

The others joined him, Arthur the most wary of them all.

Roderich kept his eyes on a steaming dish of goulash as he spoke. "I apologize, Gilbert. Elizaveta has not been herself." He drew a deep breath before continuing. "We have had a very difficult time since we came to Mars."

Lovino, using his low, serious voice, asked him what he meant. "Is it the work?"

"No. You were all on Persephone. You know how respected my wife was. She was, as they say, a 'big fish in a small pond.'" They could all hear the air quotes that the fastidious Roderich used. "We came to Mars rather than returning to Earth, because we had signed no-return contracts when we left Earth. Since Persephone was coming here, we thought we'd make a go of it on Mars, for Lili's sake."

"We thought you'd be staying under the Academy's dome." Lovino still sounded reasonable, and this calm tone seemed to draw Roderich out more. The other three listened intently, almost holding their breath. Arthur had by now grasped that something more than Gilbert's presence lay at the root of this distress, and as Roderich continued, he began to understand.

"Yes. We thought so too, but there wasn't enough work. We were able to lease a Rover from the school to transport ourselves to Switzerland Dome. I knew there would be work in the financial sector. We moved here and I got a job almost immediately." His glazed eyes roved around the room, unseeing. "We found this apartment, we settled in, everything seemed to be well."

Lovino's voice, soft and encouraging, led him on a little. "And yet – "

"And yet now, Elizaveta has no friends, no focus; she has nothing to do except look after Lili." He picked up a fork and stared at it as he continued speaking. "It's not so bad for me – most of my old work was just done with Matthew, not in large groups, and I have my office mates to communicate with, and so forth. But my wife acutely misses the company of others. She tried finding some social groups here, but there is nothing. Everyone is focused on work; the other women with children work from their homes. Those who don't have jobs have no real interest in making friends. She's suffering, my friends, and so she has a much shorter fuse than usual, and so do I. I am sorry."

Only Arthur had noticed Elizaveta return to the doorway during this last bit. Her eyes were sad and red, as if she'd been crying. She caught Arthur's eye and did her best to smile. "Roderich is right," she said softly, startling all the others. "My temper is notoriously short, and it's been worse since we came here."

"Is Lili all right?" Roderich rose from the table and crossed to her, taking her in a sweet embrace.

"Yes. She's in her cot."

The four friends looked anywhere except at the loving couple. "Maybe we should go?" Mathias wondered. "We don't want you to be stressed, with us here."

Gilbert was even whiter than usual, and from his vantage point Arthur could tell that the albino was actually sitting on his hands. He prayed that his friend wouldn't say anything stupid.

But no. Gilbert wasn't really that much of a git. He was just exuberant, and some people couldn't take it.

"No," Elizaveta said kindly. "Please stay. I really would be happy for the company, and all this food would eventually go to waste." Roderich led her to the table and they sat. "But I don't think I'll have any wine tonight," she laughed tearfully. "Don't want to make things worse."

Lovino threw Gilbert a very dirty glare, but their friend was calm, with his pale hands now folded on the edge of the table. "We'll do what we can," the albino assured their hosts. "Let's make tonight a good occasion."

"All friends together," Arthur added.

Everyone smiled, and Roderich began to serve the meal.

And Gilbert did behave beautifully for the entire rest of the evening.

…

The next morning Arthur stopped Lovino before they left their room. "Er – I'd like to find some kind of shop today. I have an idea for something."

"What kind of shop?"

"Er. Well. I'm not quite sure. Some kind of industrial supply shop, I'm guessing."

Lovino scowled. "What the fuck do you need to buy?"

"Don't ask! It's a surprise. Just – if we spot a place like that, I want to go in and look around. Hardware store might work, too."

"Wh-whatever. Just don't do anything stupid!"

Arthur glared at him. "When do I ever do anything stupid?"

"Oh, calm down." Lovino gave him a little kiss. "Whatever you want. You know I'll do whatever you want, idiot. I'm putty in your hands."

Arthur's glare changed to glee as he pulled the brunet closer. "Let's see about that." He began kissing Lovino with warm, slow kisses, sliding his hands into the back of his friend's waistband.

Lovino let out a little moan, shifting closer. "See? Putty," he growled, his hands pulling Arthur's shirt hem free.

"Feels harder than putty," Arthur countered with a grin, rubbing the front of Lovino's pants.

"Hey!" Gilbert's voice came from behind the door as he banged on it. "You two ready? Not doing anything _suspicious, _are you? Kesesese!"

Of course the lovers had jumped apart at the first sound. "I really hate him," Lovino wheezed.

"Maybe we need a different room?" Arthur was just as discomfited; he tried to finger-comb his hair back into place while he caught his breath.

"Maybe we need a whole different ship. Ready?"

"Ready," Arthur sighed, tucking his shirt back in, and they left the room.

…

The four split up after lunch, intending to wander the city separately and meet for dinner. Since they had no further business under Switzerland Dome, tonight's dinner would also be a meeting about what to do next. Gilbert promised to do some research in the interim; Arthur and Lovino headed off to shop.

"Are you ready to tell me what all this is about?"

"Not yet. Tonight I'll tell you. After dinner."

Lovino shrugged. "I guess that will have to do."

Eventually they did find a hardware store. After a whispered consultation with the owner, Arthur asked Lovino to step outside while he made some purchases. When he came outside, laden with two bags and whistling a happy tune, Lovino punched him in the arm and he almost dropped the bags. "Well?"

Arthur snarled. "After dinner, I said!"

"You're a fucking bastard."

"Yeah, you too, git. Carry this bag."

"Dammit." But Lovino took the bag.

…

Mathias and Gilbert were not around when they got back to the ship. "Want to fool around?" Arthur asked cheekily, almost certain Lovino would say no.

"No. You know what will happen. They'll show up and the idiot will interrupt us again. I think we have to set an _absolutely no interruptions_ time. Every day. Do you think he'd stick to it?"

"No idea. Might as well ask. Well, then go have a nap or something while I work. Write in your diary." He kissed him. "Don't mind me."

Lovino narrowed his eyes. "Bastard, you're not going to fuck up the ship, are you?"

"Only cosmetically, and it can easily be undone, if everyone hates it. Go." He pushed his friend down the hallway; after one last panicked look, Lovino left him there.

While Arthur prepped his things and began to work, he thought about this task; he thought about his friends. He knew that Gilbert would not really have a problem with this. And Mathias would probably not care much, either.

No, it was only Lovino who worried him, and it worried him a great deal. Lovino was so concerned – almost painfully so – with how others perceived him. He might be offended by this frivolity. His friend worried about being considered gay, about not seeming in the know, about being considered weak, silly, stupid. Arthur felt very strongly about this, that Lovino worried too much, but despite the few talks they'd had, his support didn't seem to be helping much. Lovino still had that very defensive shell, as if the world revolved around him and everyone was out to get him.

This made Arthur wonder whether Lovino had bad things in his past that he hadn't even told Arthur about. The Brit had heard about the punishments consisting of beatings, and the neglect from his distant father, but he didn't really think that could account for it.

Maybe – if Lovino didn't explode with anger when he saw the results of this project – maybe later, Arthur would calmly hold him, and try to find out. After all, if he really loved Lovino, it was his job to try to improve his friend's quality of life. And Lovino's quality of life would definitely be improved if he just loosened up a little bit. Like last night.

Last night Lovino had clearly been the most mature person at that dinner party, even if only temporarily. He hadn't snapped at Gilbert once – a miracle in itself, before Roderich's revelations – and had maintained his calm, even temper for the rest of the evening. It had been quite different, and Arthur had been very proud of him. He'd told him so, later, making Lovino blush and cover up his face (which was always so cute). Maybe this was part of a new trend.

And _Gilbert!_ Never, in the almost three years that Arthur had known of him, had he seen such – such normal behavior! Roderich's story must have really touched a chord in his heart. On Persephone, the albino had seemed to be closer to Roderich than he had to the other people, despite their bickering; maybe Gilbert really cared about the Austrian and his excess teasing (which was even more than he did to Lovino) was a way of showing it. Too bad Roderich couldn't see that. Lovino put up with it easily.

But Roderich was a married man and father, with serious responsibilities. If Gilbert annoyed Lovino, the Italian would just tell him to fuck off, shut up, or something. But Roderich – possibly – felt that these options were unavailable to him? That he had to try to get the message across in a different way.

Well, whatever. It was good to know that Gilbert really could keep a lid on it, when required.

Mathias was never a problem. He'd been studying hard to learn the basics of medicine; luckily, none of them had gotten sick yet. But Arthur still wondered, sometimes, what Mathias really felt. He hoped the Dane shared his thoughts and dreams with Gilbert, since he never talked about them with anyone else. From the story he'd told them all on that first day, it sounded like he'd had a pretty standard life before Jones – a lot like Arthur's life, just trying to muddle through and make sense of it all – but who knew? They hadn't talked much about him after that, and he rarely shared snippets from his youth. Ah, well, if his life was as boring as Arthur's had been, maybe he had nothing to talk about. All Arthur had to talk about, pre-Jones, was the Spotlight.

He put the finishing touches on his project and prepared to clean up the work area. Spotlight had done a great deal for them. And it wasn't, strictly speaking, illegal. All the ingredients were commonly available. It was only Arthur, though, who had thought of combining them in that special way. He smiled with pride as he admired the ship, the fruits of all their labor. It had been worth it. Stupid Spotlight had brought him right to where he stood now, and he was glad of it.

The Brit packed things into the shopping bags for storage again, and took them to a locker near their quarters, stopping to wash his hands along the way.

In the little cabin, Lovino slept, so Arthur perched on the side of the bunk, touching his friend's hand lightly. "Wake up. It's time to go meet them for dinner."

"Mm. Mystery work done?"

"Yes. I'll show you when we get back."

"Fine." Lovino checked his hair in the small mirror, nodded, and they left.

Arthur cuddled him close as they exited the ship, preventing him from turning back for any reason, but let go as soon as they got to the end of the dock, so his friend wouldn't be embarrassed. The Brit's thoughts from this afternoon were still swirling in his head, as if they hadn't decided to settle yet. It was a strange feeling.

And constantly, in the back of his mind like an annoying little tickle, he wondered whether any of them would be upset with his artwork. Well, the hell with the wankers. He was part-owner of this ship, too, and had every right to decorate it.

"Surprising news," Gilbert cackled, once they'd been seated and ordered their meals. "Roddie wants to hire us."

"For what? What the hell does he have to transport?"

"His family! Kesesese!" Gilbert pulled out the tablet and slid it across the table to Lovino so he could read the note the Austrian had sent. "They want us to take them back to Earth."

This didn't make sense, and Arthur said so. "Why? I mean, why can't they just hire a bloody pod? I'm happy to take their money, but – "

"Apparently they're afraid Lili will have problems with pod travel," Mathias explained. "Or something."

"Hard to change a diaper in a pod," Lovino mused, and they all wrinkled their noses, thinking about diapers. "So, yeah, I can kind of see why they'd want a more spacious transport."

"Oh, man! We can be like a cruise ship!" Gilbert nearly leaped out of his chair. "We can set up an itinerary around all the various domes, and take people on long cruises so they can see places they'd not ordinarily get to see. We'd make a ton of money doing that, instead of freight transport."

"That – is – a pretty fucking good idea." Lovino kicked him under the table. "Now calm down."

"Could we actually deal with that? Sometimes we drive each other nuts. What happens when we have a ship full of paying cruise customers and have to be nice to them?" Mathias started laughing at that. "I can see it now."

"Ugh, yeah, so can I, bastard." Lovino drummed his fingers on the table. "Maybe we can hire some customer service people? We run the ship, they deal with the travelers?"

"Not enough room. If we have to give up bunks to more employees, we won't have enough room for too many paying customers. We've only got eight spare bunks. What happens if we hire two people for customer service and then a family of seven wants to travel? We're fucked." Gilbert shook his head. "We'd need at least ten spare bunks, I think, and they'd need to be in cabins separate from our personal quarters."

"Forget that for now. We need to decide if we're going to take the Edelsteins home. What about their no-return contracts?" Now Arthur was worried, but not about their contracts. Maybe his project was too frivolous for strangers to see, or even acquaintances like Roderich and Elizaveta.

"That's their problem. If they want to risk it – " Lovino shrugged.

So did Mathias. "But maybe they'd be all right, because of their Resistance work?"

"Kesesese! Yes, we should take them. Let them work that contract stuff out themselves. But you know I can't resist the chance to have both of them at my mercy on the ship. In fact we should take a very circuitous way back, just so I have more time to awesomely torture them."

"After last night? Are you insane?" Mathias swiped Gilbert's beer and drank it very quickly.

"What? Why? Why am I insane? And stop drinking my beer!" He grabbed it back, but the glass was empty now. He scowled at the Dane, who ignored this.

"If we take them back to Earth and you spend the whole trip trying to irritate them, they'll never spread good word-of-mouth about us. We salvaged last night by working hard and being immaculate. Now we need to be very professional and helpful to them, so that if anyone ever asks them for a reference, they'll suggest us." Mathias belched discreetly. "There might be some point in the future where we can afford to turn business away, but not now."

"True." Gilbert grabbed the tablet back from Lovino. "All right. I really will be good. _Again._"

"When do they want to go? What about Roderich's job?"

"Beats me." Gilbert tapped a message back to the Austrian, telling him they'd do it, and asking when they wanted to leave. "I'll tell you what he says when he gets back to me."

"Fuck. What happens if he has to work a few more months before they can go? I don't want to hang around this dumb dome for two months!"

"Calm down. We can go do something else and ask him to contact us when they're ready." Arthur patted the brunet on the shoulder. "Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." He sipped some wine. "We should talk about this cruise ship thing, talk about it pretty seriously."

"Not right now," Mathias argued, as the waiter brought their food. "For now, let's just relax and enjoy our meal. If we have to leave and take them back soon, we won't have a chance for our party here, either. This will have to do."

So they relaxed and enjoyed their semi-party meal.

…

"What's that gunk all over the ship?" Gilbert, in the lead once more, tilted his head to the side as he tried to make it out. Arthur felt himself blushing, but tried to keep it under control and stroll quietly along at the rear of the group.

"Looks like graffiti." Mathias pushed past the albino. "If some stupid kid graffitied our ship, I'll find him and kill him. And the stupid dock workers. They're supposed to police the area!"

"It's kind of cute," Arthur said indifferently, as they got closer.

Blast. Apparently he hadn't sounded indifferent enough. They all turned to look at him.

"This is what you were doing today?" Lovino asked him with a nudge to the ribs.

His cheeks were burning with embarrassment. "Yes."

By now they'd reached the ship's door, close enough to see that Arthur had painted some kind of green creature next to the doorway. "What is it?" Mathias asked. "A rabbit with wings?"

"Er. It's Flying Mint Bunny."

"What? Is that some kind of kids' book character?" Gilbert leaned close to peer at it, running his fingers over the paint.

"No." Arthur cleared his throat. Well, he'd made up his mind to lay it all out for them. "When I was a little kid, I invented a fake pet called Flying Mint Bunny, since I didn't have any brothers or sisters and my dad wouldn't let me have a real pet. Like a magical bunny who could talk to me and – er – make me invisible, and fly, and things. I used to sketch him all the time. And – and since our call sign is 'FMB2012,' well, FMB reminded me about Flying Mint Bunny. And we talked about a mascot, so I – I decided to put him on there." He paused and looked at his shoes as the other three alternated staring at him and at the artwork. "You don't like it?"

"It's pretty cute," Mathias admitted. "You did a good job. I didn't know you were that good at art!"

"I had an imaginary pet, too." Gilbert stared at the painted green bunny, unseeing. "I had an imaginary pet bird called Gilbird."

"Hah!" Lovino began laughing. "You are the most self-centered bastard I ever met in my life."

Gilbert ignored this. "Can I paint Gilbird on here next to your bunny?"

Arthur beamed. "Sure! What color is he? I have blue, yellow, white and black paint."

"Awesome! Gilbird is yellow. I'll put him on there tomorrow." The two of them shook hands solemnly.

"I want to put something up there for me," Mathias said, "but I don't know what, yet."

"Y-yeah, bastards. Since we all own the ship, everybody should have something on there that they like." Ah. He _was_ beginning to loosen up! Arthur smiled at him, but the Italian didn't see.

Lovino's face was red, and Gilbert pinched his cheek. "You should totally paint a little tomato for your mascot. That's exactly what you look like when your face is all red. An angry little tomato."

The brunet smacked his hand away. "Shut up, stupid. I – I'll think of something. Give me some time."

"Me too. Have to come up with some awesome Viking theme."

"Some awesome Viking theme that isn't too hard to paint! Kesesese!"

"Shut up! Let's get in the damn ship."

The friends got in the damn ship. "Are we going to call this ship the Flying Mint Bunny?" Gilbert then wondered. "I mean, it does match the call letters."

Everybody turned to Captain Vargas, who rubbed his face. "Sure, whatever."

"All right! Our awesome ship has a name and mascots!" Gilbert jumped into the air; when he came down, he hugged Lovino and then Arthur. "We should stencil the name on there, too. But get some rest. I'll practice drawing Gilbird tonight and we can paint him on there tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me, git. See you later."

Arthur had the best friends in the entire solar system.

…

_Lili = Liechtenstein_

_You know Gilbert would be awesome at parkour._


	31. Voices from the Past

**Voices from the Past.**

Having received word that the Edelsteins couldn't leave Mars for two more months, the boys decided to go scope out the derelict development on Triton. It might be usable as a home base for them, or a storage dump.

The Flying Mint Bunny (now with added Gilbird) zoomed through space; they'd calculated a four-day journey out to the moon belonging to Neptune. All four of them were very excited.

Mathias was in addition rather nervous, because his first medical exam was coming up. Lovino, as the captain, would need to proctor him as he sat for the first wave of tests. Everyone had been very encouraging to him, and he felt confident, but it didn't stop him being nervous. None of them had much experience at being attentive students, until recently.

"Couple more hours," Arthur announced needlessly. Everyone had been madly watching their progress.

"Shut up. Listen, I'm going to go write in my diary. You bastards all right with that?"

"Yes, go. We can handle this, wanker."

"Come get me about half an hour before we get there."

"You got it, Captain! Kesesese!"

…

At first Lovino made a lot of business notes in his ship's log, information about supplies, repairs; noted the date they needed to pick up Roderich and his family. After he was satisfied with all that, he began on the personal notes, in the locked diary.

_There are a lot of things I wanted to write down_. _First of all I'm not quite so worried about daily life shit anymore. We're earning enough to make the ship payments – at least for now – and we can afford to live off the interest income from our old investments for a little while. We're being cautious and thrifty. None of that troubles me anymore. And Arthur is doing well, very happy, __as am I__, so I'm not worried about him. No, I think all that has mostly sorted itself out. Hope so, anyway._

_But I am thinking about this cruise ship shit and wondering if we could do it. I really think the Bunny _(he snorted) _is too small, or, not fucking fancy enough, whatever, for that, and we'd need to upgrade, which will throw us into another money problem situation. And we'd need to hire people – cooks at the very least – and none of us is really a sociable tour guide type of bastard. Maybe Gilbert. Plus we don't know much about other places to make the tours successful, but that kind of thing we can learn. Would people pay for that? Maybe we need to talk to our marketing guy. I should ask G. to do a little research about other companies that are doing this type of work._

He tapped the pen against his teeth again, and then doodled a little bit in the margins. _I need more pens._

Mathias knocked on the door. "Come out, boss. Almost there; let's make a plan."

"Cheh, yes, all right." He slipped the diary into its case and locked it, stowing it under his pillow for now.

…

Arthur, standing at the com panel with Gilbert, glanced up as the other two came back to the bridge. Lovino didn't seem happy. Now what was bothering the git?

"Well? What?" the brunet barked.

Gilbert shook his head. "Trying to decide how to do this. If there's no dock, or no working dock, on the surface, we'd have to take the emergency pod, but that means someone has to stay with the ship. Not awesome!"

"Why the hell didn't we think of that before? Dammit!" Lovino punched the arm of his captain's chair.

"Don't worry about it." Arthur gave him a raised eyebrow. "I don't mind staying."

"You're serious?"

"I'm serious! What's there to see? A derelict outpost. Big deal. I'll stay and study some more. After Mathias finishes his med exam I've got to take my Level IIs."

"I guess you're right." Lovino nodded. "Okay. How much longer?"

"Fifteen minutes, ish." Gilbert peered at the banks of instruments, deciphering them. "But wait. There's some kind of activity going on there. Machinery and stuff."

Instantly the others all crowded around. "Like what? Air converters?"

"Can't tell yet. All I can tell is that there's power running, and it's a lot, not just the trickle you'd expect from a disused place."

The friends looked askance at each other. "Uh-oh," Arthur said, somewhat pointlessly. "You – you think maybe some rubbish is going on that we need to worry about?"

"Well, should we send a signal down? Ask about the dock and request permission to land?" Gilbert's hand hovered over the com panel. "If there's someone there, they ought to answer, even if they just tell us to go away."

"S-sure. Do it." Lovino sat down abruptly in his chair, now rather nervous; the other three stayed clustered around the instrument panel.

"FMB2012 incoming from Mars; does anyone read me? Over." Gilbert sounded so professional, Arthur thought with a smile. Just like a bloke from the military, or a movie.

A crackling voice came through the speaker. "Triton Bay. We read you. State your business. Over."

Arthur backed away from the com panel so quickly that he fell over. Lovino hurried over to his friend and bent down to him, alarmed. "Arthur?"

"It's – it's my bloody father, I think," he whispered.

"Oh, shit_._ _Shit!_" Lovino froze. "Dammit!" he hissed, grabbing Arthur's hand.

Arthur held that hand, taking deep breaths. Bloody hell, now what? He really, really did not want to go down to Triton anymore. Not now, not ever. His friend's grip grew tighter; his face paler. Arthur's attention shifted from his father to the panicking Lovino. He wanted to hold him, for reassurance, but he didn't dare. Not in front of the others. Bollocks!

Their friends watched them without much curiosity, just waiting for them to get up, it seemed.

"FMB2012? Do you read me? This is Triton Bay. Over."

"FMB2012 here. Please stand by," Gilbert replied easily, switching off the com. "What's wrong?" he asked.

But Lovino didn't react. Arthur, now worried, shook him, but the Italian didn't budge, his amber eyes panicked and wide. Bugger their stupid fathers! "Hey. Hey! Lovino?"

"Uh." Lovino shook his head violently. He drew deep gulping breaths, squeezing Arthur's hand without speaking. Eventually he began to calm down, and leaned against the blond for support.

"What do you want to do?" Gilbert asked quietly. "Do you want to leave? We can do that. We should at least tell them, since they know we're here."

"Uh. Yeah, let's go," Lovino announced through clenched teeth. "We have enough fuel to go anywhere. Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Your wish is my command, Captain! Kesesese!" Gilbert immediately opened up the com again. "Triton Bay, this is FMB2012, departing orbit immediately. Over and out."

The Brit finally coaxed Lovino into standing up. Arthur could see that he was relaxing, though, now that they were getting away. "Fuck. All that effort about Triton and it's shot to shit by the stupid coincidence of our stupid fucking fathers!" He turned to Mathias. "Can you two get us out of here? Take us somewhere else we wanted to see. Take us to, oh, Saturn, somewhere. Find an interesting place and just go. Okay? I'm going to take Arthur to our quarters. We need to talk."

"Got it," Mathias replied, moving to the displays. "Take all the time you need."

Lovino nodded and led his friend away in a hurry.

"Well, that was bizarre," Gilbert said with a short laugh, once they'd gotten the ship on its way.

"I wonder why his father scares them so."

"Well, whatever. They'll tell us if they want to. I'll have this course plotted in a few minutes, so let's look up some awesome Saturn information."

"Whatever you say, Acting Captain Beilschmidt."

"Kesesese!" And with that, Gilbert plunked his ass down in the captain's chair, for a change.

…

On the bed, Lovino sat upright and held Arthur close. "Are you all right?"

The blond nodded. "Y-yes. Thanks for telling them to take us away. Are _you_ okay now?"

"Yeah. I will be." But Lovino was confused about something. "Why were you so scared of him? Is there, uh, any bad shit you didn't tell me about?"

Arthur scowled at him. "No, I just didn't know what to think! I'd put him completely out of my head, as if he'd died, and then his voice popped up like a blasted ghost. And then I knew your father would likely be there, and I just – I just didn't know what to say, or do; and then, you frightened me, the way you reacted." He leaned against Lovino. "I know you don't want to see the bloody bastards."

"I know. I was pretty damn freaked out. Well, now we know where they are. At least where _your_ dad is." He thought about this. "Probably my bastard father's with him, you know. Christ, I hate that fucker!"

"Gilbert once said 'knowledge is power,'" Arthur then pointed out. "We might be able to use this."

"How?"

"I don't know! It's just useful information, I guess. Blackmail?"

"Fuck, no. I really don't want to get into that. I _don't_ want to see him again. And besides, maybe with the Resistance government having all those problems we saw on Earth, maybe they don't even give a flying fuck about those two anymore. Small potatoes. Let's just forget it, and stay away from Triton."

"Good idea." Arthur kissed him.

"Thanks for taking care of me. Sorry, bastard. I should have been more – more responsive, but you know how I am with that stuff in public." Lovino's face reddened; Arthur pinched his cheek with a grin.

"Don't worry, you panicky wanker. But, er…Mathias said 'take as long as you need.' We won't get to Saturn for a long time."

"So?"

"So they definitely won't be interrupting us. Not after something like that." His hand skated over Lovino's side through the thin fabric of his shirt; they kissed again. "Let me show you how well I can take care of you," Arthur promised in a hoarse whisper.

"Oh! Yes, please." Lovino sank back onto the bed, allowing Arthur to control the scene.

Ah, he had never once thought about loving a man, before he'd met Lovino, but now every time they even looked at each other it was like a miracle to his love-starved heart. When he lay awake at night, his thoughts were always of the brunet, sleeping safely in the bed with him, trusting him. When he took a break from work or studying and glanced up to see his beautiful lover, sitting so bravely in the captain's chair and concentrating on running the ship, his heart swelled and he was more content than he felt any human had a right to be.

Right now Arthur was going to focus all his attention on him, to stroke and tease him in the ways that he had learned would heighten and inflame his senses, make Lovino bite his lip to keep from crying out in desire. Some days Arthur felt this was all he lived for, these heated caresses, and on those nights he kept the brunet awake for hours, reveling in their harmony, the touch and murmured sounds that evidenced their desire for one another.

He leaned forward and began trailing his tongue over Lovino's warm ear, puffing soft breaths across the moistened skin as he let out tiny aroused moans. Lovino's desperate hands grabbed and held him tightly, and together they drowned their fears in the stimulating sweet sensations they loved to share.

…

Later, on the bridge, Lovino hesitantly put forth an idea he'd discussed with Arthur that afternoon. "I know we all have shit in our childhoods. None of us had a perfect home life. But I'd like to tell you about my life, and Arthur will tell you about his. Will you tell us about yours? Really tell?"

"I don't really have that much to tell, before the – the thing," Mathias said, "but you know I'm happy to support everyone."

Gilbert seemed a little troubled. "I – have stuff I could talk about. I trust you guys, but it's some serious shit. I don't want to b-break down while I talk."

Mathias hugged him. "Even if you did, you know we're not going to mock you for it."

The albino nodded. "Yeah, I do know. Well, we're on our way to Rhea, one of Saturn's moons. This one is somewhat populated, but sparsely, from what I found just now. There's a dock, and we can at least hang out for a while and regroup." He cleared his throat and glanced at the instrument panels.

"That's good. How long until we get there, bastard?"

"Two days." Gilbert rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms nervously.

Lovino nodded. "Okay. Well, if and when you want to talk, we're ready to talk."

"Give me a while," Gilbert replied quietly, without meeting his eyes. "Let me get my thoughts in order. But I'll talk."

"Take your time." Arthur gave him a little hug. "We all have bad shit to share."

"Yeah."

…

Things on the ship had been strained for a few hours. Arthur and Lovino had been prepared to sit down and have a big talk right away, but Gilbert was still waffling about it. Lovino felt like he was sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The four of them went their separate ways at bedtime. "It must be something very bad," Arthur murmured, as though Gilbert might hear him through the walls.

"Yeah. Well, we'll just have to wait, I guess. I know it's going to be a damn emotional scene, and I'd rather have one big one, than for you and me to talk, and then listen to him later." He turned back the covers and slipped into the bed. "I want to get it all over with at once."

Arthur nodded and joined him. "I wonder how many other bombshells are waiting for us out there. I'm starting to feel like we're treading on eggshells. What else, or who else, is going to turn up to derail us?"

"I know. I'd kind of felt everything had started to go well for us. Not perfect, but well enough. But in the back of my mind I was really hoping Triton would be like a fallback position for us, someplace we could go hide out if things got too bad, or scary. But today fucked up that whole idea."

"Maybe this place on Rhea will work. Yes, there are people there, but if it's pretty sparsely populated – " Arthur shrugged. "But, whatever. We'll find something. Someday."

"Fuck, yes, but I don't want to spend the rest of our lives running, looking for a hidey-hole! Dammit, it's always so stressful."

"Want to go back to Earth and do landscaping or something like that?" Arthur lay on his back, staring at the unused upper bunk. "Still a nice, easy, and most importantly a low-key thing to do. Nobody would be coming after us, or really screwing up our lives. We could be completely anonymous; could sell the ship, and at least get rid of the 'make the payments' stress. Hell, without the ship, we don't even need to work, do we?"

"It's tempting," Lovino sighed. "Very tempting. But what about those two? That's not really for everyone."

"I know. It was just a suggestion."

"Well, we can throw it out there. Maybe the bastards would want to go back to Earth even if they didn't do landscaping with us."

"Could we do landscaping somewhere else? There must be gardens somewhere." Arthur thought about this. "Not under Switzerland Dome; that's all commerce, and Russia Dome is all big-city shite. But maybe there's a dome – ah, forget it, I'm too bloody idealistic." He rubbed his brow.

"You mean a peaceful dome? Somewhere that's calm and normal? Hah. If we could find that, I'd be happy." Lovino took Arthur's hand.

"Maybe we could make one."

"Build our own fucking dome? Bastard, you have some of the craziest ideas!"

"What? My only other idea was getting this ship! You make all the other decisions, you and Gilbert."

"But your idea _was_ getting this ship, and we did get it," Lovino explained. "You have thoughtful ideas."

"But we only got it because you said yes, boss."

"Whatever." Lovino sighed. "Let's just wait until we can have our talk, and figure out what to do."

"Okay. Hey, thanks for being so good to me this afternoon."

"That's what I'm here for, you moron. A-and thanks to you, too." Lovino squeezed his hand. "Good night."

Arthur rolled over and put his arm around his friend, snuggling close. "Good night."

…

They'd arrived at Rhea, and Gilbert was still not ready to talk. Neither Arthur, Lovino nor Mathias had brought up the subject again, but they'd all seen him repeatedly descend from his normal, everyday self into a panicked silence. Mathias was the only one who'd dared show any physical support; he'd pat Gilbert's hand, or hug him, when he got that way, but the albino had made no overtures to get the big discussion about their childhoods started.

And now they were docked at the dome on Rhea, and heading out to explore. Luckily Gilbert seemed in a good mood today.

"This – this isn't as bad as I'd feared," Lovino said, after they'd cleared the dock and were out on the streets. "I was picturing something like Switzerland Dome, but without any people." This dome – unnamed – was bigger than the Jones dome, and had an older appearance, but it was in fairly good repair. The population was small, as far as they could tell, but those people they did encounter met their eyes and offered friendly smiles.

"Wonder what drives the commerce?" Gilbert looked around. "These people must do _something._ If they were all independently wealthy I'd bet they'd be under some more fabulous dome."

"Let's find someplace to sit, a park, coffee shop or something, and do a little recce," Arthur suggested. "Maybe we can stay in a hotel for a couple nights, just for a change of pace?"

"That's a good idea, bastard, but I don't know if we really have the money. Maybe we can pick up a job while we're here."

Mathias agreed. "We can look around, anyway. Here's a lunch joint. Let's get something to eat and figure out what to do."

Inside the little restaurant, otherwise nearly empty, a very cheerful young blond girl came to take their orders. When she'd gone back to the kitchen, Arthur nudged Lovino. "Did you see her nametag? Said 'Lili.' I wonder if she could possibly be Elizaveta's friend that she talked about."

"Are you kidding?" Lovino snorted. "Of all the lunch joints, in all the domes, in all the solar system, we walk into hers."

"Hey, don't discount it. It could awesomely be true. I'm going to ask her when she gets back with the food."

"What? Don't do that, you idiot." The brunet kicked Gilbert under the table. "You'll embarrass us."

"I don't see why. I mean, if I simply ask, 'Do you know Elizaveta Edelstein,' that wouldn't be embarrassing."

"Except she wasn't Edelstein when she knew Lili." Mathias drank some of his milkshake. "She said she didn't meet Roderich until after Lili had run off, right?"

"Damn. Wish we knew where Elizaveta lived before Persephone." Gilbert drummed his fingers on the table.

"Stop doing that, bastard. It's really annoying."

Arthur started laughing at him. "Bossy wanker. You're one to talk."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Mathias laughed too. "You do that all the time, Lovino. I think that's where Gilbert picked it up."

Lovino turned his gaze to his fingers. "I do?"

"You awesomely do!"

"Huh. I'll stop, then. That's fucking annoying."

"Bet you ten Galactic dollars you can't stop," Mathias laughed.

"Forget it! No bets."

Lili then returned with their plates. "Excuse me," Gilbert began, in his calm voice. "Do you happen to know a girl named Elizaveta? I'm sorry I don't remember what her maiden – "

But the rest of his sentence was cut off abruptly as Lili dropped the plates on the floor with a ringing clatter. She put her hands to her red cheeks and stared at the mess. "Oh – I'll – I'll get a mop," she blurted out, heading back to the kitchen. "I'm so sorry!"

The friends watched her go; Arthur bent down to pick up some of the crockery, and so he didn't see a blond man storm out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and unmistakably aiming a small weapon of some sort at them. "_Zwingli_?" Gilbert croaked.

Startled, Arthur sat up fast and conked his head on the edge of the table. "Ow."

Lovino pressed himself as far into the back of the booth as he could. Dammit! What the fuck was going on? Gilbert had told him Zwingli was terminated!

He could feel Arthur sliding towards him, too, groping for his hand under the table; he took it and held tightly, trying not to show fear as Zwingli advanced on them with the pocket-sized weapon.

"Oh. What the hell are you doing here?" the former Jones student asked Gilbert. He stuffed the thing into his pocket and came closer.

But Gilbert had popped right back into his cheerful bastard mode, the same way he used to be at Jones before they were all friends. "Hey! It's great to see you alive, you know."

"I highly doubt that. What are you doing here? Did you bribe him too?"

"What? Who? We thought you were dead. That's what the databases said. I don't get it."

The other three decided to let Gilbert handle the conversation. When Zwingli met each of their eyes they nodded; Lovino tried to offer a smile, but he could tell it was a weak grimace at best. But Zwingli stood, arms folded, and glared at the albino.

"Tell me how you got away from Jones."

But Lovino could now see that Gilbert was about to launch into some 'awesome' explanation of their escapes, and it wasn't really necessary. "We just left, after the Government overthrow," he said meekly, before Gilbert could get started with any talk of heroics.

"Government _overthrow_?" Zwingli stared at him with wide, angry eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you read the news?" Mathias wondered. "Maybe you don't get news here on Rhea?" Zwingli's eyes flicked to him, but he didn't alter his stance.

Behind him, Lili came back with a mop and began to sweep up the mess; Zwingli ignored this, but Arthur got up to help her. She gave him a little harassed smile as they worked together to clean up.

But this meant Arthur's seat was empty. Zwingli swung into it and rested his elbows on the table with a frown. "Tell me what you're talking about."

Gilbert sketched a quick explanation of the Resistance movement and its success, and how Jones was now just a regular school and not a place for underage criminals. "Is that enough information for you? Now tell us how you awesomely got to Rhea, when everyone thought you were terminated!"

Zwingli's hands gripped the tabletop. He met the eyes of Mathias, Gilbert and then Lovino, lastly glancing at the helpful Arthur, who was throwing the last bits of broken dishes into the trash can as Lili smiled at him. "All right, I'll tell, if she agrees. Lili!" he called out.

She scurried over, Arthur a few paces behind her. "_Bruder_?"

"This," he gestured, "this is my little sister Lili. Lili, these are – are – are – former _classmates_ of mine." His voice was clipped, and Lili's eyes grew fearful.

"They haven't come to take you away?" she murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course not. We just came to Rhea for some down time. This is all coincidence." Mathias now took charge. Lovino was glad of that. If Zwingli meant them any physical harm, Mathias was the one bastard who could go head to head with him and come out victorious. Arthur pulled a chair from another table for Lili and one for himself, and they sat.

"They tell me the Government has been overthrown," Zwingli said to Lili.

"Oh. Yes."

"You knew about this?" But his tone with her was surprisingly gentle. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged delicately. "I didn't think it could matter to you, to us. You're still a – a – " But she apparently couldn't make herself say it. "The Government – no matter which one it is – isn't going to go absolving you of it." She hung her head, perhaps in resignation.

But Mathias' conviction had been overturned. Lovino hoped nobody would mention that. This was becoming an enormous can of worms. Now he almost wished they'd bitten the bullet and gone down to Triton instead!

"Tell us how you got away," Gilbert prodded Zwingli again, poking him in the arm for emphasis.

He took a deep breath. "Is that all right, Lili? Do you mind?"

She considered this and sighed again. "No. If you trust them, then I trust them." She caught Arthur's eye and he gave her a little reassuring smile.

"Very well. Since they already know we're here." He cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone. "I knew I was due to be terminated. Knew that was how the system worked. I bribed that bastard Braginsky to falsify the record. He took the money. Lili ran away from her school. She caught a pod to Switzerland Dome, I stole a Rover and met her there, and we escaped in the pod. After some jumping around the solar system we finally found this dome on Rhea, which is low-key and pretty much off the grid. We've been here almost a year now, living under an assumed surname. Lili is a waitress and I'm a cook. Satisfied?"

None of the four friends could think of any questions. "Braginsky's dead," Arthur said with quiet satisfaction.

This got Zwingli's attention. "Heart attack?"

Lovino shook his head madly but Arthur wasn't stupid or indiscreet. He simply said "No. Someone killed him in his office. When they found the body, it was cold, and the killer has never been caught."

Gilbert couldn't fight a smirk of pride, but he had the brains not to stare at Mathias, at least, and Zwingli – or whatever he was calling himself now – was still eying Arthur.

"I'm glad of that," Zwingli told them. Then he looked at each one in turn again. "What brings you here?"

"Told you, we're having some down time between jobs," Gilbert repeated.

"No, to this restaurant."

"Bastard, we were hungry!" Whoops. Not a good term to use on a crazed killer. But Zwingli didn't look very crazed right now, just tired and confused.

"Y-you said something about Elizaveta." Lili finally joined the conversation. "I did have a friend by that name. She was my best friend, and I didn't like leaving her alone at our old school, but I had to rescue _Bruder._" She smiled at Zwingli before addressing the friends again. "How do you know her?"

Gilbert explained. "And she just had an awesome baby, too, and they named her Lili," he concluded.

Lovino was unsurprised to see tears form in the girl's eyes. To know that a friend still remembered you – thought highly enough of you – He pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. Dammit.

Customers entered the little restaurant and Lili jumped up, swiping at her eyes with the edge of her apron. "I have to get to work," she said.

"Me too." Zwingli rose. "I'll make new meals for you." The two of them left the table.

Nobody spoke for a minute or more. "Dammit," Lovino eventually muttered, since he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"I know! Wow. That is one weird story."

"Are we going to do anything about it, bastards?"

"You mean tell the authorities where he is? Forget it." Mathias pounded the table. "Forget it! Imagine if Tino hadn't done what he did for me. I'd be in just the same position. No. I vote we keep mum. He trusted us enough to tell us, so we should be worthy of that trust."

"Besides, Elizaveta will be a hundred percent thrilled with me when I tell her we found her awesome friend! Kesesese!" Gilbert did a little dance on the booth seat. "Maybe she'll pay us extra!"

"Not her," Lovino scoffed. "Roderich wouldn't let her."

"Well, whatever. At least we can take her the awesome news."

Lili came back with more coffee for them, smiling weakly. "Vash will have your meals ready soon."

"Th-thanks," Lovino stammered before she walked away. Dammit, he'd forgotten the bastard's first name. Well, now he wouldn't forget. Vash Zwingli. He'd remember that name. "Knowledge is power," he muttered, giving Arthur a little smile.

"Very true, my friend. That's what I always say." Gilbert slurped some coffee.

"So we kind of got sidetracked here, gits. Are we going to look for a hotel after we eat? We can afford it for one night, right? Maybe two?"

"Yes, idiot. Let's do it. I need some quiet time, no schedules, no work." Lovino sighed. A few days away from the ship would be really nice.

"Maybe we can make some money off Vash! Maybe he'll hire us to take them somewhere else."

Arthur poked him and lowered his voice. "You're a wanker, Gilbert. Where could they go? He's still a criminal, and probably overage now, too, so he could get in even more trouble. I hope he's not going to poison our meals." He stared over towards the kitchen area.

Gilbert began laughing. "Kesesese! Lovino, you have to give up your title as Most Suspicious Bastard, I think." The others all snickered a little.

"Anyway, we do need to talk about getting some fucking work, idiots."

"Ow. Yeah, all right, I forgot. Well, maybe Lili will want us to take Elizaveta a package."

"Maybe. Don't count on it. Anyway, even if she did, we can't charge her an arm and a leg to do it, stupid." Lovino scowled and smacked the table. "There's got to be a faster way to make money!"

Mathias finished his milkshake and leaned back. "I've been thinking about that. Roderich works in finance now. I wonder if he could help us with that."

"With what?" The others were confused.

"Investments or whatever. I know Gilbert's still doing that kind of thing for us, but maybe Rod has a better handle on it. Ah, I don't know, it was just a thought."

"Well, we're going to be on the ship with them for a while, so we could at least ask the bastard."

"Keep Gilbert out of the room while you do it," Arthur laughed, "or Roderich will say no on principle."

"Kesesese!"

Lili returned with their new food and the friends tucked into their meal.

…

A few nights in separate hotels _did_ do them all a lot of good. Lovino hadn't realized how tense he'd been from sharing the ship with his friends. They split up for most of the day, and he and Arthur enjoyed exploring this smallish dome, talking of nothing much, finding the hidden nooks and crannies where little shops and businesses thrived.

"What's the main focus of this dome?" Lovino asked the concierge, on their second day.

"Hah! It's a tax haven," the Australian told them. "Businesses that incorporate here get better tax breaks. So there are residents here, but not a lot of visitors, nothing to see. That's how it stays so small and manageable. I don't even understand it all, but there are a lot of companies who have just one or two employees in this dome, just so they can say their headquarters are here. They save a lot of money that way. "

Not wanting to seem too eager, the Italian simply nodded. "I don't understand all that tax bullshit either." Though he did. He'd made it a point to study this during their long flights; he didn't want the new government coming after them for tax problems! But he'd never thought to look into tax dodges. Maybe he should. "Thanks. See you later." He and Arthur left the hotel and went for another pleasant ramble.

"This is what I miss most," Arthur said as they walked. "Being able to wander around at random. Even at Jones there were places to walk to. Sometimes being on the ship makes me a little frustrated."

"I know what you mean. Well, let's enjoy it while we're here."

"Aye, aye, captain."

"Shut up, stupid," Lovino said with a lazy, indulgent smile.

…

Every evening the four friends met for dinner at the restaurant where the Zwinglis worked. They didn't see Vash often, but Lili was always there, friendly and helpful. "Will you be seeing Elizaveta again?" she asked Arthur one evening.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. We have a contract to take them back to Earth when her husband winds up his job on Mars. Do you have a message for her?"

"Yes. I'm sure you understand that I cannot send her an electronic message; we can't risk anyone finding out about _Bruder_. Please give her my warmest best wishes and congratulations. I'm happy that her life is working out well."

"Would you like us to send her a picture?" Gilbert asked. "We could do that from my tablet, without saying anything explicit in it. I can route it all around the solar system so nobody could trace it."

Mathias laughed. "We could do that right now. Gilbert's tablet has a camera in it."

"We'll just tell her it's the four of us enjoying our dinner at a restaurant with our waitress. Not where. Not anything. Would you like to do that?" Lovino's tone was avuncular.

Lili's eyes grew wider. "Oh! Yes, please!"

"Here, sit down, switch places with Artie. Take the awesome picture," Gilbert told his friend.

"Oh, but aren't you going to be in the picture?" she asked Arthur as they traded places.

"She'd rather see you than me," Arthur laughed, winking at the albino in the back of the booth. "Or maybe Gilbert should take the picture?"

His friends burst out laughing; Lili, not understanding, gave a hesitant smile, and Arthur took the photograph. He and Lili traded places again and he handed Gilbert the tablet.

"Kesesese! I'll send it right now. If she sends us an answer we'll come back and show you?"

"Please! But I have to get back to work now. Thank you. All of you." She smiled one more time and hurried off to the kitchen.

"That's done," Gilbert said, finishing his tapping. "Hope she's happy."

"Don't forget. We don't want the bastard coming after us. Don't do anything risky about him _or_ her."

"Honestly, Lovino, you're in suspicious mode again!"

"I have to be. Nobody else ever is! But that reminds me, listen. I – I can't take this tension about the childhood discussion much longer. I'm sorry, bastard. But I want to talk to you and Mathias about it so I can get it off my chest. I understand if you don't want to talk, but I need to. Soon."

Gilbert nodded. "I can be ready. Tonight, on the ship?" The previous night had been the final hotel night. Yes, it was fun, but it cost money, too, money they shouldn't really waste.

"Please." Lovino put his head in his hands. "Then we can clear the air and get on with life."

"Okay. How about you, Artie?"

"I'm game. Things aren't so bad, with me. But we'll talk about it tonight."

Mathias began laughing. "And after that, we'll have to play poker or something. Just to get our minds off the bad shit."

"You've got yourself a deal," Lovino smiled, punching him in the very solid bicep. "Now let's finish up this food and get out of here."

…

_I hope no one objects to my resurrecting Swissy from the dead. I couldn't bear to leave him out of the story, either._

_Liechtenstein is considered a classic example of a tax haven._


	32. Troubled Youth

_This chapter contains references to domestic violence/manslaughter, and a very brief mention of Arthur's suicide attempt._

…

**Troubled Youth.**

"So, you all know I'm an orphan. My parents were a little old when they had me. My mother was 35 and my father was 40. They'd been trying to have kids for a long time, I guess, but never had any before me. We had a little house in the country, lots of neighbors and shit.

"I know you're all going to laugh at this, but when I was a kid I already knew I was pretty awesome. Look at me! There was not ever one single person I met who had white hair and red eyes like me. Obviously I was born for some mystic reason, right? Destined for greatness! You know how little kids think. I thought I was a prince in disguise, or some superintelligent alien being or something. Superhero. Ha ha. So even when I was just in primary school, I really studied hard, because I thought it would be bad for a boy as special as me to be a dimwit. I was totally a teacher's pet, too, because I figured out that being sweet and doing what I was told made the teachers drool over me.

"And, you know, you go outside and play with the other kids, and sometimes you get to be in charge, and sometimes they do, but I – I was kind of a braggart, and I always used to demand that I be the leader when we played. Because I was awesome! They never argued with me, but I did get shut out of games sometimes. When I tried to explain how I was special, they all got mad at me. I was about six years old when I started getting in fist fights with the neighbor kids. Boys and girls too. The bigger kids said they bullied me because they were protecting the little kids from me, but that wasn't right. I just wanted what was due to me! Don't snort, Lovino. I'm thinking as a six-year-old kid here. Give me a break.

"My parents used to have fights. I could hear them shouting at each other after they put me to bed, and sometimes noises like dishes breaking. But when I mentioned it to teachers – because by then the other kids were already drawing away from me, so I always wanted to spend time with the friendly teachers – they told me that all married couples fight, and it was a way for them to work out the future of the family. So I didn't worry too much, and they were always happy in the mornings. Kept studying, kept trying to play awesome games with the other children, and getting more and more shut out.

"Well, y-you probably know how it is. The less the other children want to be with you, the more you retreat into stuff you can control yourself. I started spending more time studying things, tinkering around with our home network and stuff. I was pretty damn smart! When my parents weren't looking I used to do all kinds of stuff on the computer. I was still having trouble being friends with the other kids, though. I guess that's when the 'awesome' behavior started. You remember how I was at Jones? Super-friendly to everyone? I remember telling you, Lovino, how superficial that all was, and how I only did it to survive. That's what I was doing at this point in my life, maybe at age 7. Because it wasn't until my eighth birthday that the shit hit the fan."

Gilbert took a deep breath and a drink of water; Mathias put his arm around him. Both Arthur and Lovino were troubled. With such an introduction, the rest of the story could only be bad. They sat calmly and waited for their friend to continue.

"So I acted all cheerful and like I didn't care if I had friends or not. At the time you think everyone must see this sort of thing and point fingers. 'Ah ha ha, Gilbert doesn't have any friends!' But I bet they really didn't notice. Everyone's wrapped up with their own little childhood dramas. Other people don't really think about you as much as it seems.

"So, m-my eighth birthday. My parents had been fighting, as usual, the night before. But this time they kept fighting in the morning. I didn't know if there would be a birthday party or not – they hadn't asked me about inviting anyone over, or where I'd want to have a party, but I was still hoping for it. So while they were in the, the kitchen, fighting, I went out to the office and started noodling around on the computer.

"It was easy to tune them out, for a while; I got online and checked my savings account that my mother had started. It was full of money! This was really exciting because it had only had a few hundred dollars in it last week. I thought they had given me ten thousand dollars as a birthday present. Kesesese! I sat there at the computer and giggled to myself, thinking about all the cool stuff I could buy, and that's when I realized they were still screaming at each other.

"I walked away from the computer to go beg them to s-stop fighting. It was my birthday, and they were still yelling! We should all have been happy together, right? But when I – I got near the k-kitchen door, my father yelled out, 'And he's some kind of freak! Red eyes? Jesus, no wonder I can't get ahead at work. Everybody sees that kid and thinks either I'm not man enough to keep you from straying, or that I've fathered some kind of monster!'"

With a sharp breath Arthur reached a hand out; Gilbert took it, still leaning against Mathias.

"I couldn't move; I was so shocked, and so I just stood there listening for probably half an hour. Th-there was more like that. Him accusing her of cheating on him, and when she denied it over and over, he just blamed her for giving birth to a – a freak. She screamed and shouted back at him that albinism comes from the father. I was only eight but I could guess that this was an argument they had been having for a long time. It just sounded like they were yelling at each other, but not really caring if the other one listened. Even then I could feel that. But I still couldn't make myself go in there. I was afraid of what my father would do if he knew I'd heard all that.

"And then there was this loud noise, two or three loud banging noises, and then nothing. I didn't know what the noise was. I ran into the room to see, and – uh – " Gilbert broke down, and Mathias held him close for a few strained moments, stroking his hair. Arthur let go of his hand and Gilbert used it to wipe his eyes.

"W-well. Th-they were lying on the floor in a puddle of b-blood. Both of them. I d-didn't know what had happened, but I started screaming and shaking them. They didn't move. Eventually I stopped crying and ran out into the street to find some help, b-but all the children ran away from me, because I'd been so snotty with them before. But I didn't care; something was wrong with my parents and I had to help, so I went to a neighbor lady's house, and sh-she helped. An ambulance came and took them away, and the police came and took me. I didn't realize I had b-blood all over my hands and clothes, and I guess I had rubbed my hands in my hair, because when I saw myself later I looked really scary. But I didn't know that at the time.

"I didn't listen to the policeman; I just kept crying and asking what was wrong with my parents, and asking why they didn't answer me. They drove to the station and made me sit in a big chair, still all covered with blood, and I was scared as hell and nobody would talk to me. They kept whispering and looking at me, all those bigshot cops and people, but nobody even smiled at me.

"Eventually I guess I fell asleep from crying. I got awakened by this nice lady policeman who took me into a big room where I washed the blood off my hands and face, and they found some clean clothes for me. She and another lady – a secretary or something – they took me into another room and sat me down with some cocoa and a donut, and I started to think everything was going to be all – all right. That my parents were okay and we would go h-home and – and –

"But she told me, very gently, that my parents were both dead, and that I was now an orphan. She blabbed a lot of other crap but all I could think about was that they were dead. _Dead! _And when I finally started listening to her again, she was talking euphemistically to the secretary lady, saying that it seemed like my mother had shot my father and then killed herself. I don't know where she would have gotten an old g-gun like that. It was really old. That's what the banging noise was. I guess that's the kind of noise that guns used to make."

Gilbert sniffed a few more times and blazed into the next part of his tale. "So that was that. My childhood came crashing to a halt and I had to wise up very quickly. There was nothing I could do about it, so I tried to forget the whole thing and think about what to do next. But I didn't have a choice.

"I didn't have any relatives, cousins or grandparents, shit like that, so I was passed around to a lot of foster homes, where I kept trying to be good. I did! All I wanted was for people to be nice to me – but because of the way I look, and what they knew about my parents, everyone eventually got nervous around me and shunted me off to a different home. Nothing really bad happened during that time. Just – just the stupid feeling of being so strongly disliked and sometimes ignored.

"By the time I was twelve I'd taken some money from my savings account and bought some tech. I still don't know where that money came from, but it was still in my account, so I figured it was mine. I was living at an orphan's home, a school for orphans, so I had my own little room. It was really little, like a closet. But that's when I started thinking about how to screw the establishment. I – I mean, life had been treating me like shit for a long time, and yet, I was a special person! Very smart! Why _shouldn't_ I skim off some of the cream? So I started playing around with security codes and things, and I taught myself how to break through firewalls and crack databases. Kesesese! I was really proud of myself, and I knew that I really was special, no matter what all these fuckwits thought. I managed to lie on a bank application and open a different, a secret, account, and started funneling money into it from big corporations. Then that got really boring, so I started fucking up corporate databases without taking their money, or, making it look like competitors hacked them. Man, that was fun."

He got a little starry-eyed at this memory; his friends were relieved that he'd gotten past some of the bad shit.

"But, you know, I kept doing it, and when I was sixteen I got caught, and they put me on trial. The lawyer made all these arguments about my troubled childhood, and I took care to wear beige at the trial, which always makes me look frail, even now. I wore grimy beige clothes that were intentionally too small, with holes in them, so I'd look like this poor pitiful orphan, and it worked. Instead of jailing me, or even giving me a real conviction, all they did was send me to Jones with a warning. Oh, yeah, the Government assholes took all the money in my savings account, too. They thought this was the stuff I'd stolen, and since they couldn't give it back to its rightful owners, they said the Government would keep it. I guess they used some to pay my school fees." He sighed. "There was a lot of money in that account, by then, but it was all interest from that original ten grand."

He stopped, knuckled his eyes again, and sat up straight. "Then I went to Jones. The rest you pretty much know. Except, well, I don't know if you three realize this or not, b-but you really are like the brothers I never had. The family I never had. I – I feel safe with you. That I can spill this shit – or anything else – and you won't turn your backs on me. Th-thanks for holding out your hand that day, Lovino." He reached towards the brunet, who took his hand without speaking, tears forming in his eyes.

Mathias took a deep breath and hugged the albino, who smiled sweetly at him before bursting into laughter. "Kesesese! You know what the best part is?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "How can you go from all that depressing shit to your 'kesese' garbage?"

"Because I'm awesome? Aw, come on, you know I am." He laughed a little. "Forget all that bad shit. It's over and we can't do a damn thing about it. Now, I – I hadn't been certain about telling you guys this other thing. There were times when I really wanted to tell you, but it never quite felt right. But I can tell you now."

Gilbert drew another breath to speak but Arthur forestalled him, saying with a raised eyebrow, "You have a bucketload of money sitting around that the Government didn't get its hands on. Right?"

"Artie! You're almost as awesome as I am! Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say. They took my savings account money, but nobody ever figured out where the real corporate stash was." He beamed at Lovino, whose jaw was hanging open unattractively. Gilbert reached out a finger to lever his mouth closed.

Lovino shook his head. "H-how much is a fucking 'bucketload,' bastard?"

"Don't hate me." Gilbert named a figure that was high enough to buy five or six Bunnies outright. "It's been earning interest for the last eight or nine years, you know."

"You _idiot!_" Lovino struggled to hit him, but Arthur held him back.

"Ignore him, Gilbert. He doesn't know what he's saying."

Lovino stopped struggling and turned to the Brit in astonishment. "What? Of course I know what the fuck I'm saying."

"Well, don't say it," Mathias demanded. "Gilbert's gone through a lot tonight, dredging up all this. And – and it's all over now, and he's safe, and we're all safe, and there's no shit happening to any of us, so shut the hell up about it, Lovino. You got that?"

The Italian quailed under the fierce blue Danish gaze. "Uh. Yeah. S-sorry, b-bas- Gilbert. Sorry."

"It's awesomely all right. I know you've heard a lot to depress you tonight. But…now it's your turn, you know."

"Shit. Yes. All right." Lovino relaxed again and took Arthur's hand.

In a very subdued tone he began to speak of his mother's death, his isolated childhood, his unloving father's negligence. "Basically that was all there was, until I came to Jones."

For the benefit of Mathias and Gilbert he explained about his year rooming with Antonio, and how miserable that had been. About Braginsky's whippings, and how there were times in his first year when he'd been hurt so badly he'd thought he might die from it. "And then Arthur became my roommate. Th-there's some shit I'll let him talk about, but by the time we met you, bastard," indicating Gilbert, "the two of us were best friends. I – I didn't realize it then, but I understood it later. Wh-when I went home for the summer, and all I did was worry about him." He leaned against the Brit; Lovino didn't even have to look up to know that sappy smile had appeared. "And I'm glad we became friends, too," he finished up, addressing Gilbert and Mathias. "I didn't have shit for a family life either. If you'd told me I'd come away from Jones with a – a family, I'd have thought you were nuts. But you're right. We are a family." He smiled at them, rare and sweet. "I'll let Arthur talk now, and then I have some things to say at the end." He squeezed Arthur's hand.

"My life wasn't so bad." Arthur started with the tale Lovino already knew, about his mother coming home to find his father in bed with another woman, and continued through his fairly ordinarily school life, up to the discovery of his skill with the drugs. "It was amazing. I cooked up this rubbish – and you all know just what kind of crap goes into it, really nothing at all – and people were paying money for it! I kept raising my prices, and they kept buying it. By the time my dad figured out what was happening, I was clearing about ten thousand a week, though I didn't do any bloody investing, I just whacked it into a savings account."

"Don't tell me you have hidden reserves, too," Mathias laughed.

"No. My blasted father took it all, when he caught me. Blew the wad on some American lady he was trying to win over. Told me it was my duty to hand it over to him, since there was no way I could give it back to the people who bought the drugs." He snorted.

"I – I don't think I ever thanked you, bastard," Lovino told him. "Without your drugs I don't know where I'd be. Where any of us would be." He wondered whether Arthur would mention the suicide attempt, or Braginsky. Lovino still felt very tense when he thought about all that, even though it was over now.

"I know. But…without your friendship, I don't know where _I_ would be." He turned to the others. "I'm sure you've already guessed why I was so happy to see Braginsky dead. Not just from whippings." His friends nodded sadly. "He – er – well, things were, uh." He stopped. Took Lovino's hand and squeezed it tightly before blurting out, "Things were so bad I tried to kill myself."

This time Gilbert reached for him, and held his left hand.

"I'm – I'm glad I buggered it up," Arthur managed to laugh. "Be-because Lovino helped me. He became my first friend ever, and looked after me until I was stronger." He let go of Gilbert and turned his arm so the scar was facing upward, showing it to his other two friends. "This scar is like my pledge to him, to stay strong, to be worthy of his friendship."

Dammit. Lovino pressed his fingers into his eyes and put his other arm around Arthur, who shifted closer. "Bastard."

Gilbert ran a finger over the raised skin. "You're all right, now, though?"

Arthur smiled at him. "Of course I am. Like you said, the past doesn't really matter. What matters is today, and the future." He smiled at them all. "We've been having a lot of fun together, supporting each other. I think our future will be a good one. For all of us." He nudged Lovino with his elbow.

"Bastard" was still the only thing Lovino could manage to say.

"I've already told you about my past," Mathias reminded them. "On that day that we became friends. That was a great day for me. I always used to imagine having a lot of little brothers to boss around and now I have them!"

"Kesesese! Just try it, you Danish bozo."

Arthur and Lovino now chuckled, too. "But, uh, listen, bastards, there's more. More about Arthur and me." He turned to the blond. "Tell them about the fucking letters. Because of Triton."

"Oh! Yes. Yes, they need to know that. Do you want me to tell them, or show them the letters?"

"Nh. Just tell them."

Arthur recapped the gist of their fathers' letters, which were still hidden in the bottom of his old duffel. Lovino watched his friends' eyes widen as the final piece of the story unfolded. By the time Arthur had spoken of their Roderich-assisted escape from Jones, Gilbert was nodding in understanding.

"No wonder his voice scared you. Now I get it."

"So I guess we're not going to Triton?"

"No, Mathias, we are never going to Triton!" Lovino scowled but then began laughing. "Oh, bastards, thanks for laying all this on the line. I feel much better now that we don't have any secret shit to hide."

"I still don't want to bring it up again," Gilbert said. "You know it, so let's drop it."

"Agreed." They all shook hands solemnly.

"Well? What do we do now? We still have a while before Roddie's ready to go back to Earth."

"We should go to a goddamn bank, stupid, and pay off the loan."

Arthur stretched and put his hands behind his head. "Do we really want to do that?"

The others turned to him in confusion. "Now what's up your sleeve, you idiot?"

The Brit sighed. "Well. We should figure out about the cruise ship thing, or if we want to go somewhere permanent instead and settle down. And if we want to do either of those things, then we don't need to pay off the Bunny, because we'll either need a bigger ship, or no ship at all. Right?" He sat up again and shrugged. "Right?"

"Settle down somewhere permanent? I didn't realize we were considering that," Mathias explained. "I haven't been thinking about that at all."

"Kesesese! You're all a bunch of idiots, you know. If we pay off the Bunny loan then we don't need to work, so we don't need to do the cruise ship thing! Now, _now_, we can awesomely be space traveling playboys of leisure, and pay off the loan, and do whatever the hell we want! We don't need to find business. Just go where we want to go, visit people, whatever. A permanent vacation," Gilbert sighed, clasping his hands before him dreamily like a teenage girl.

"You're right," Lovino replied in wonder. "It – it hadn't really trickled into my brain yet. So what the hell are we going to do?" He cleared his throat. "But, uh, Arthur and I were talking about going back to Earth permanently. We hadn't mentioned it to you but we were talking about it."

"Why? Fed up with us?" The Dane cuffed his captain on the side of the head.

"Ow, dammit. No. Well. No. I – I get a little more, not exactly claustrophobic, but something, on this ship. When we stayed in the hotel we had a great time just wandering around Rhea, doing shit, even though this dome is kind of lame. We can't really get out in the open, when we're traveling. Ah, you know what I mean, don't you?"

"I know what you mean, git."

"Stupid. I know _you_ know! You're the one who put the fucking idea in my head!"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah, just shut up about it."

Mathias frowned in concentration. "Huh. I never really thought about it."

"I did, but it was totally worth it to give that up to awesomely fly around the place with you guys."

"Well?" Lovino still felt very emotional, and as a result, kind of irritated.

"Eh. We don't have to make any decisions right this minute," Arthur told him, with an elbow jab.

"True. We just need to pick something awesome to do between now and when we need to get Roddie and co."

"Let's stay here tonight," Lovino decided. "We have the dock space for another day. We can decide tomorrow whether to stick around, head to someplace new, talk about the loan and the future and all that. Okay? I think I need time to process all this."

"Yeah." Mathias hugged Gilbert once more before standing up. "Me too."

"Kesesese! Are we going to play poker?"

"Sure, bastard. Get the fucking cards out. We'll go set up a table and drinks in the lunchroom."

"Awesome! I'm gonna take my brothers to the cleaners!" Gilbert ran to his quarters to get their deck of cards.

Lovino and Arthur headed towards the lunchroom. "If Mathias is his brother, isn't that incest?" Arthur asked, laughing hysterically as Lovino shoved him. "Well?"

"You're the biggest idiot I ever met."

"Biggest and the best," the cheeky blond grinned, showing all his teeth.

"Shut up. I'm going to take _you_ to the cleaners, you stupid bastard."

"Bet?"

Lovino rubbed a hand over his face. "Wh-what could we bet?"

"Loser has to…hmm…I don't know. I can't think of anything that would actually be like a punishment!"

"Loser has to sleep all alone in the upper bunk tonight," Lovino suggested, with a malicious grin.

Arthur smirked. "Agreed. Okay. Let's get this place set up." He pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet as Lovino prepared a table for game play.

"Going to win tonight," Mathias announced, coming into the room with Gilbert. "I have to practice for the next time we get to Russia Dome."

"Let's go back there," Lovino said. "Maybe not right now, but sometime. Now that we've been there, I don't feel so intimidated by the idea any more. Okay?"

"Fine with me." Gilbert pulled up a chair. "Now sit, my friends, and play!"

…

Arthur won.

But Lovino did not sleep alone in the upper bunk that night.

…

_Thanks again to all readers and reviewers. Hope you're still enjoying it._

_Albinism can come from either parent._


	33. Doing What You Know is Right

**Doing What You Know Is Right.**

"What the hell. Anybody object to going back to Russia Dome?" Lovino asked, the next morning. "I've got that idea in my head and can't get it out."

"I don't mind," Mathias laughed. "If I can take my exam on the way there, I'll be happy to celebrate once we arrive."

"Yes. Lovino's birthday's coming up, so we should have some bloody big party for all of you."

"Don't be stupid, you idiot. We should wait until your birthday and have one big party for everything. Right?"

Gilbert laughed. "Okay by me, Cap. I want to get some new clothes and things while we're there. I'm sick of wearing all this old crap. I want to be more stylish." He did a little pirouette.

"That sounds like a fun idea." Lovino was thoughtful, ignoring the "Cap" comment and the fucking dance move. "I guess if we have everything under control, financially and all, we can start spending a little money on ourselves." Then he cleared his throat. "Uh, uh, sorry, b-Gilbert. I don't mean to act like all your stash money is common property. Sorry." He ran a hand over his red face. Dammit!

"Aw, it's awesomely all right, you know that. Once we get there we'll hang out and talk about the future. Maybe I'll pay you boys a salary, kesesese!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Let's just get the silly Bunny under way. What is it, three days?"

"Aye, aye," Arthur laughed, saluting, out of range of Lovino's fist. "Three days. So you can proctor Mathias without a problem."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

…

The travelers were more prepared for the crazy atmosphere of Russia Dome this time, and Mathias, in a very exuberant mood, was thrilled. "Somebody has to get sick, now, so I can cure you," he crowed, ruffling Gilbert's hair.

"Forget it! I'm too awesome to be sick."

Lovino thought about this, too. "I can't remember the last time I was sick," he admitted. "What about you?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm a pretty healthy bloke."

"Fine. Then one of you has to break a bone so I can set it."

"Bastard, are you nuts?" Lovino pushed Mathias away from him. "Don't go breaking my bones."

"Seriously, Mathias, give it a rest, all right? Let's go have an awesome party!"

"Well, if you get hung over, I can't do shit about that, so, you're on your own." The Dane stomped ahead of them all, but just as they began to worry, he turned around, grinning. "Come on, little brothers. Party at the casino?"

"Party at the casino!"

…

With a two-hundred-dollar-a-head cap on their gambling, everyone was confident and in laughing high spirits, and they were all on little winning streaks, too! And then a young waiter in the casino's skimpy beefcake costume approached Arthur. "D-d-drinks, sir?" he asked quietly, his face as red as the silk bowtie that encircled his pale throat.

_"Emil?"_ Arthur blinked.

Lovino turned at the sound of his voice. Yes, it was indeed the kitchen bastard; he and Arthur had been friendly to each other, at Jones, and he guessed Emil was happy to see – "What the hell?" he blurted out, as he realized what the bastard was wearing. Dammit, these casino bastards really pushed the sex angle! He looked like a fucking male prostitute, shirtless in those knee-high red boots and the short black leather shorts they had to wear. Emil seemed frailer than before, with big dark circles under his eyes, and definitely more nervous. What the hell had happened to the kid?

The younger man's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Lovino, Gilbert and Mathias. He backed off a little bit, but then stepped up to Arthur again. "Please just take a drink from the tray," Emil begged, darting his gaze between the Brit and his friends.

To accommodate him, Arthur and Lovino each took a drink. The Italian reached back to poke Gilbert to get his attention. By now all four of them were staring at the ex-Jones student.

"Emil, what are you doing here? Are you in trouble?" Arthur asked him in a whisper. The casino noise was loud enough that no one outside their circle could hear it. Emil glanced nervously at Mathias once more, and Arthur seemed to understand. "Don't worry. They're my friends. I trust them with my life, all right? None of us will hurt you."

"W-would sir enjoy some, some, private entertainment?" Emil put a hand on Arthur's arm weakly. "We can go to a room together?"

"Can we talk privately there?" When Emil nodded, Arthur turned to his friends. Gilbert and Mathias both nodded fervently – obviously there was something wrong that needed sorting out – but Lovino did not want to get involved. But – "Sure," Arthur said with a forced grin. "Lead on."

Emil set the drinks tray on a nearby counter and led Arthur away, followed by his concerned friends. Hah. Bastard had a puffin tattooed on his shoulder. Lovino dragged Mathias' ear down to his level by yanking on his sleeve. "What the hell?" He set his drink on a table as they passed.

"Beats me, but it doesn't look good."

In silence they continued towards a corridor with private rooms. Emil nodded at a burly man standing by a podium, who hurried to unlock the room with a key card. He tried to usher all five of them inside. "Hope he's a good one," the man laughed. "We don't have any reports about him yet. You're all going to take a turn? Make sure you let me know how he did. He's new."

Lovino watched Mathias clench his fists, but perhaps mindful of the situation, the Dane did nothing further. Gilbert rescued the situation. "Kesesese! Hey, why don't you wait outside," he said to Mathias.

None of the others understood this except Lovino. "Yes. You wait here."

"Oh. Yeah, okay." Mathias' eyes lit up as he grasped this, and he took up a position on the opposite side of the door, flexing his arms. He was easily a match for the man with the key card. If anything nefarious happened, Mathias would be able to physically overpower him to take it and set his friends free.

The other four passed into the room. "What the fuck's going on?" Lovino demanded.

But Emil shook his head and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, a gesture all of them instinctively recognized. "Please, sirs," he said.

Arthur sat down on the sumptuous bed in the room. "Come up on the bed, and we'll see what we see," he suggested. Emil nodded weakly and joined him, the stiletto heels of his absurd lace-up boots snagging on the duvet. "Why don't you gits climb up here too? There's enough room for all of us to have a little fun with him."

Grinning as though they'd been looking forward to this, Lovino and Gilbert climbed up on the bed, too. Arthur tenderly lay Emil on the pillows and propped himself up on an elbow next to him. Gilbert lay on the other side of Emil, and Lovino sat at his feet.

Arthur put his mouth near Emil's ear, a splayed hand balanced on his chest. "Please relax. We won't hurt you. I give you my word." He glanced at Lovino, then turned back to Emil. "There are cameras in here?"

The younger man nodded. "Oh, yes," he said, his voice becoming more confident and flirty.

"Why are you working here?" Gilbert whispered.

Emil reached out a hesitant hand to him; the albino took it carefully. "Gambling debts." He turned as if to kiss Gilbert and stroked his face while continuing to speak in a very low tone. "Vladimir and I thought we could m-make a living by gambling, but – " His voice broke, and he bit his trembling lower lip; his hand fell to his side.

"Where is Vladimir?" Arthur asked, into his other ear, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Emil's bared arm.

"Boarding house. He's sick, too weak to work. I've been taking double shifts to help pay off the debt."

"How much do you bastards owe?" Lovino couldn't hear well, so he scooted closer, wedging himself between Arthur and Emil, about halfway up. "Please don't worry about this," he said, gesturing, embarrassed; his face was level with the casino bastard's hip.

Emil nodded and offered Lovino a nervous smile; the brunet felt Arthur's hand stroke his hair, and he started to calm down a little. So did Emil, from the looks of it. "How much do you owe?" the Italian repeated.

"Six hundred dollars."

The three friends looked at each other in amazement. "That's it?" Lovino blurted out.

"Kesesese! No problem. We can easily pay that off."

"What? Bastard!" Lovino leaned over to punch Gilbert in the arm.

"Ow! What?"

Arthur hissed at them. "Stop that!" He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Focus on why we're here," he laughed, caressing Emil some more.

"But – but – " Dammit, they shouldn't get involved in this shit! These bastards made their mistakes, let them work it out.

"Listen," Arthur then said aloud. "This isn't going to work. You two go play somewhere else." He jerked his chin towards a sofa in the corner of the room. "Leave us alone."

Gilbert leaped up and held his hand out to Lovino. "Kesesese! Come on. Come sit on my lap."

"Stupid albino bastard." But he went to the sofa and sat on Gilbert's lap, where they pretended to caress and fondle each other while speaking quietly. "We shouldn't get involved."

"It's only six hundred dollars. And we can't leave them here to go on like this. Emil is the reason that Mathias killed Braginsky."

"What?" Lovino blurted out, before catching himself. He looked over at the bed, where Arthur was now lying nestled even closer to the bastard, murmuring to him with a smile, and finger-combing his hair, which was a paler blond than Arthur's. Dammit. Maybe he should agree to this just to get the bastards away from each other! "Uh. But, listen. We can't go jaunting around the solar system rescuing every fucking hard-luck case we stumble across. We have to look out for ourselves."

Gilbert pulled him down so his mouth was near Lovino's ear, cupping his cheek with a pale hand. "You're seriously suggesting that? _You?_ Wouldn't you have been grateful to someone who'd reached out a hand to you when you were in your worst times? You helped Arthur. Both of you helped me. And all three of us helped Mathias. Now we're all okay, and we have the chance to help people who really need it." He ran a hand up and down Lovino's back.

"Fuck." He put his arms around Gilbert's neck and hugged him, partly to hide his embarrassed face, but partly because he was very glad the bastard had pointed that out to him so baldly. "You're absolutely right. I – I'm sorry."

"Kesesese! Can I kiss you now?"

"Bastard!" He punched Gilbert in the arm, but the albino continued to cackle.

Arthur, on the bed, turned to look at them. "What are you two doing over there?"

"What about you, idiot?" Lovino hopped off Gilbert's lap. "Let Gilbert play. Come sit with me; I want you." Well, he did. But he was also churning with jealousy at watching Arthur act protective towards the fragile Emil, even though he knew it was only so they could speak privately. He pulled Gilbert into another embrace. "Tell him we'll help. Ask what we need to do."

"Got it, Captain," Gilbert hissed with a grin, taking the opportunity to peck a quick kiss on Lovino's cheek.

"Dammit!" He scrubbed his cheek with the back of his hand.

Emil seemed frightened by that, but he lay still on the bed while Arthur and Gilbert traded places.

When Arthur reached the sofa Lovino pulled him onto his lap and began kissing him. "Eh?"

"Have to make it look like something's actually happening in here," he laughed against his friend's mouth. "So far it's all been petting and whispering."

"Oh! Yes." Arthur slid his hands into Lovino's hair and began kissing him feverishly. "Er, but I don't want to get too carried away."

Lovino slid his hand up and down between Arthur's thighs. "Don't worry. Gilbert is going to find out how we can help them."

"Take them away, right?"

"But we don't want these bookies, or whatever, coming after us, if we do that. We're going to pay their debts and then we can get them away from here to a safe place."

Arthur moaned a little and squirmed. "Forget that. This is a bloody big couch. Lie back and kiss me."

"Don't get carried away, dammit!"

…

Ten minutes later Gilbert climbed off the bed. "I'm satisfied." He made a big show of buckling up his pants and belt. Emil continued to recline on the bed, but he had a hopeful little smile on his face; they'd pulled the covers over them and thrashed around a little to make a show for the camera. Emil had even giggled a bit. Gilbert was glad to see he could still laugh. He knew the young student had been through a lot of bad shit already.

But Lovino and Arthur hadn't heard Gilbert speaking. They were still mostly dressed, madly pawing each other, but the reclining Arthur's zipper was open, and Lovino, lying alongside him, had a hand inside the pants, groping feverishly. "Hey, you two! Get a room, kesesese!"

"What?" Lovino looked up with a start and rolled off the couch, landing on his ass. "Dammit!" He covered his eyes. "This _is_ a room, stupid."

Arthur stood up, blushing, and Gilbert crossed the room to them. Still grinning, he pointed to the blond's fly and Arthur frantically fixed it, his eyes not meeting anyone else's, as he scowled and bit his lip. "Bugger," he muttered.

"All settled?" Lovino asked, covering his red face as he rose.

"Yep." Gilbert turned back to Emil. "Going to come back out? Or are you done for the night?"

"I – I'm going back out," he said. "Th-thank you."

"Don't sweat it." He bent down to murmur to Arthur and Lovino. "He's got another hour of work and then we'll all go to this boarding house to get Vladimir and take them straight to the ship."

"Right. Th-thanks for the playtime," Arthur managed to stammer to the room in general, before they tried the door handle.

It opened easily; all of them let out breaths they hadn't realized they'd been holding. Mathias, hands clasped behind his back, stood alone in the hallway. "Bastard? Where's the other guy?"

"Guess I intimidated him too much. He fiddled around for a while and then wandered off, but I got the key card from him before he went. Five more minutes and I'd have come in after you." He put the key card back on the podium.

"Nothing else interesting happen?"

"Nope. All set?"

"Yeah." Arthur turned back to Emil. "Are you allowed to stay with us the rest of the evening?"

"P-probably not. I don't really know the protocol. Th-this is the first time I ever, uh – "

"Let's go to the blackjack tables. Just stay with us, and if anybody gives you grief, we'll deal with them." Arthur gently put his arm around the younger man's shoulders and walked ahead of the rest.

The other three followed. "We're going to rescue him, I hope?" Mathias asked.

"Yes, yes, it's awesomely under control. Come on. We'll play some blackjack and tell you about it when his shift is over."

Lovino blushed. "Wait. I'm – I'm going to the gift shop."

"What? What the hell for?"

"Uh, well, what if that's all he has to wear? I want to buy him a sweatshirt or something for when we leave. It's fucking embarrassing to have to wander around all night looking like a goddamn ass for sale. Those stupid boots!"

His friends smiled at each other. "Good idea. Let's all go to the gift shop."

Lovino picked out the plainest sweatshirt he could find. "I don't think the bastard's going to want a reminder of his job here. Maybe we can cut the logo off?"

"Ah, let him deal with it however he wants. He can wear it inside-out, if it's that annoying. That's a really nice gesture, though."

"Right, now, come over here." Gilbert took Mathias' arm and dragged him towards the main counter.

Lovino hurried behind. "What now, stupid?"

"I want to buy a souvenir spoon! Kesesese! They're small enough to stow on the ship, and I can get one from every place we go together."

"You seriously want a reminder of this dumb casino?" Lovino scowled.

"Well, no. I thought they might have generic Russia Dome spoons. I have to remember to look at Switzerland Dome when we go back for the lovebirds, too."

"Whatever, bastard." They peeked in at the souvenir spoons and Gilbert chose the nicest generic Russia Dome spoon that they had on offer.

"Awesome. Let's pay for this and go find Artie." He noticed Mathias was empty-handed. "Nothing for you?"

"What do I need? I don't want casino souvenirs! Let's go shopping tomorrow for nicer clothes, though."

"Deal, bastards. Now pay." Lovino laughed and shoved the sweatshirt at Gilbert, who paid.

…

At the end of Emil's shift the friends followed him to the employee lounge. Arthur had suggested just giving him a credit voucher for six hundred dollars and letting him handle it, but both Lovino and Gilbert felt that was unwise. They'd need a record of it, need to make sure the money got into the right hands.

The casino manager wasn't happy at losing his employees, but under the terms of the contract he had to let them go once the debt had been paid. Lovino made him sign a form discharging both Emil and Vladimir from their enforced employment; Mathias and another employee put their signatures to it as witnesses. "Leave the uniform," the manager directed.

Emil then headed to a locker and pulled out a pair of pants, a shirt, and a jacket. "I'll just go get changed?" He headed towards a small changing cubicle.

"We'll wait here," Arthur told him.

When he came back out, dressed in his own clothes with the stacked uniform pieces in his hands, he set it all on a nearby bench. "Here," Lovino blurted, thrusting the sweatshirt at him. "I, uh, I didn't know if you had something else to wear, so – just – just wear this, dammit. It's cold out."

The younger man took it gingerly, trying to smile. "Thank you?" He put it on over his jacket, after which they bundled him out of the casino with much lighter hearts, laughing and joking to put him at his ease.

Lovino let the others get ahead of him, but restrained Gilbert. "Thanks," he said. "For pointing that shit out to me. I – I'm fucking selfish, you know, not used to considering others. I – I'm glad you said that to me."

"Kesesese! _Now_ can I kiss you?"

"_Chigi!_ I hate you, you dumb albino bastard!" he roared, kicking Gilbert in the shin.

Emil whirled in place, frightened by the outburst, but Mathias and Arthur didn't even look, just started laughing along with Gilbert, who hopped around on one foot for a while, out of Lovino's reach. Then the Dane put his arm around Emil's shoulders as he guided them all to the boardinghouse that he and Vladimir shared.

…

The fanged bastard couldn't believe the luck that had brought the four friends to their rescue. Pale and coughing, he allowed Mathias to carry him, while the others picked up their meager belongings. The small group headed back to the ship with Emil holding his sick friend's hand the entire way there.

…

"Well?"

"Wait for Mathias. He should be back in a few minutes." The junior doctor was attending to the sick Vladimir. Emil and he had been quartered in one of the spare cabins together and reassured of their safety. Lovino wanted to talk to them some more, but not until Vladimir was well again.

The Dane bustled onto the bridge two minutes later. "All settled. I gave him some basic medicine from the drug storage. It ought to ease his sleep."

"Awesome. But I hope we don't all catch what he's got. That'd suck!"

Arthur grinned. "Old Doc Mathias can cure us, if we do."

"Nah. 'Old Doc Mathias' sounds like some old-time American cowboy. Since he's Danish, call him…Doctor Denmark! Kesesese!"

"Cheh, you're such an idiot. Now what are we going to do?"

Arthur spoke up. "Did they have anyplace they want to go? Earth, maybe, or back to Jones?"

"We didn't talk about it. Let's just let them sleep."

"We were planning to stick around Russia Dome for a while, though." Lovino began to pace. "We can't leave them alone on the ship while we go do stuff. I don't care how fucking weakened and trustworthy they are, I just won't do it."

"I agree," Gilbert nodded. "But I don't mind sticking around with them tomorrow. I can work on the bank stuff, whatever, permits and paying off the loan, ordering supplies and all that, if you guys want to get out and about. We could each take a turn, one stays here each day, until we're ready to go?"

"That works for me. But what if they don't have anywhere to go? They both seemed pretty eager to get away from Jones, as I recall," Arthur remembered.

"So were we, stupid. No, I think we need to talk to them tomorrow, even if the fanged bastard is still sick. We need to find out what they thought they were doing, and where they want to go."

"I guess that's the best we can do," Gilbert sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. "And once again, our awesome party plans were thwarted!"

Mathias put him in a headlock. "You know what? I don't even care if we have a party. Every day is a party with you guys."

"Ouch. Get off me, Dr. Denmark, you oaf!"

…

Vladimir and Emil joined them in the ship's lunchroom the next afternoon. Mathias and Lovino had come back from their shopping jaunt laden with bags of swanky new clothing; Arthur, less sartorially-inclined, had simply bought a new pair of boots and a jacket. Carrying some Chinese take-out, the three had come back to find Emil and Gilbert quietly chatting on the bridge.

Vladimir, pale, now lay shivering with his head on the lunch table, his eyes red. Between desperate bites of food Emil explained what had happened to them since they'd left Jones: fleeing to Persephone, requesting a dropoff at Russia Dome. It had sounded so exciting, and they'd assumed it would be easy to find work in such a high-traffic area.

They'd started off living in a nice hotel. As their money had started to dwindle, they'd begun spending more and more time at the casino, until finally they'd been unable to cover their gambling debts. The casino owner had found them a room in the shabby ghetto boardinghouse and given them both jobs in the casino. They'd earned a meager wage, paying more than half their paychecks back to the owner, and still hadn't managed to dig themselves out of the hole on their own. When Vladimir had fallen sick, they'd pretty much given up hope. Emil couldn't earn enough by himself to keep them both; they couldn't afford medicine or health care; the casino owner wouldn't allow Vladimir to work while sick for fear of infecting the other employees.

Emil thanked the four friends effusively. "I'm not ordinarily very religious," he confessed, "but I'd reached the point where I was offering up prayers to anyone who might hear me. We're – extremely grateful to you. We'll do any kind of work you have, to help pay you back." Vladimir nodded in agreement, his cheeks bright red with the fever.

"You've had a rough time, we know." Arthur patted the suffering Emil on the shoulder. "Why don't you go rest a while? This is very emotional for both of you."

"O-okay." Emil stood up, wiping his eyes, and helped his sick friend out of the chair.

"I'll come with you," Mathias offered. "To make sure the patient doesn't faint on the way back."

"We'll wait here, Doctor D. Come back when they're settled." When they'd left, Gilbert shook his head. "Anybody who thinks they could live off casino earnings – " But he dropped it with a shrug. "I'm glad we found them, though. Glad we were in time to help."

"I-it's a good feeling, I have to admit." Lovino pursed his lips. "Did you get all your shit done while we were gone?"

"Yeah. Some supplies will be delivered tomorrow, but once that's done we can get out of here."

"Good. The longer we stick around the more I worry. This fucking dome really is a hellhole."

"Hey, you're the one that wanted to come here, git." Arthur poked him.

"Yeah, well, lesson learned, all right? Shut up about it."

"Who's going to stay with the ship tomorrow?"

"I'll do it, wanker. Lovino can take you shopping."

"I can do my own awesome shopping!"

"Seriously, stupid, you think I want to babysit him while he shops?" Lovino sank his head onto the table. "I'll stay here with you."

Mathias came back. "They should be all right. I asked them if they had any safe place to go to, and they don't. Said they'd leave it up to us."

"Dammit."

"Dammit is right." Gilbert drummed his fingers on the table; the others all reached out to stop him. "Whoops! Sorry, I forgot. But, yeah. I feel kind of weird, making big decisions like that for someone we don't even know really well."

"Maybe we can suggest some things but make them choose?" Arthur shrugged. "We aren't very experienced in the ways of the solar system, yet, ourselves."

"Yeah. Earth, Rhea, or back to fucking Jones, basically."

Mathias seemed thoughtful. "That might not be such a bad thing," he realized. "Sending them back to Jones. Adnan and Tino and Oxenstierna would probably make sure they were all right. They're known good guys, you know? Safe men to be around. It'd be a stable environment for them."

"Yes, but then they'd have to re-enroll in the damn school. Maybe they wouldn't want to do that."

"But if their bloody fees were paid already, like ours were, then they'd at least have a place to stay while they figure out their futures."

"That's probably their best bet," Lovino decided. "Uh. I mean, we could keep them with us on the ship, but – but I'm not sure I could deal with that. We – we all know about each other, but I'd feel fucking self-conscious with strangers on board."

"Just as well we're not starting a cruise ship! Kesesese!"

"Why don't you write to Adnan, or whoever you feel most comfortable with," Arthur suggested to Gilbert. "Just ask if there's still room for them there. Don't tell him any of this shite."

"I know, Artie. I'm not stupid. Yes, I'll send him a sat-mail later on, and see what he says."

"How much longer till Roderich's ready to go?" Mathias remembered to ask.

"Three weeks. Hey, maybe he'd have some awesome idea. Maybe he has connections on Earth, with some Resistance guys or whatever, and could get them jobs?"

"Eh, whatever. Let's forget it for now. We can talk to them about it when Vladimir's better, and they can stay with us until then, yeah?" Arthur appealed to Lovino.

"Yes, sure, all right. So, tomorrow, Arthur and I will stay with the ship, and you two can go do what you need to do."

"Yes, sir." Mathias saluted him, and Lovino scowled. Dammit. Would these damn bastards ever stop this shit?

But he could deal with it.

…

_Ha ha. Did you think I'd forgotten about the spoons?_

_Also, I was going to describe their boardinghouse as a "rat-infested" place, but discussions were inconclusive: in artificial terrain like that under a dome, would rats actually exist? Some of my friends think they would have stowed away on ships, but I'm not certain that could actually happen on a spaceship. What do you think?_


	34. Missions On and Off

**Missions On and Off.**

Dr. Denmark had done his work well. They'd stayed docked at Russia Dome for three days. By the end of that time, Vladimir was back to full health, no one else had gotten sick, and the ship was restocked and ready to depart. After long discussions and several sat-mails back and forth with Adnan, Emil and Vladimir had decided that Jones was, in fact, their safest option for now. Lovino had put them to work on the journey there, just because he could, and they were such cheerful little servants that he almost regretted not keeping them on board. Right now Arthur had them cleaning the bathrooms. Hah.

But Lovino knew he'd never be able to really relax around them, the way he did with his friends. And he could also see quite clearly that both Arthur and Mathias were uncomfortable around the younger boys. Oh, Vladimir and Emil would never realize that, but Mathias had become taciturn, speaking only about ship duties and medical needs. Arthur had begun to rein himself in, cutting off his usual friendly banter each time he remembered they had guests.

Yes, guests. It was an obligation, just like having guests to visit. Lovino had had to put up with that sort of shit when he was a kid and his bastard father had invited other businessmen over for dinner. He still remembered those agonizing dinners – "children should be seen and not heard" – and he wanted to get these kids off the ship so they could all relax and be themselves again, so that he could get these stupid memories out of his head and get on with life.

Of course Gilbert acted just the same no matter who was around.

"Hey!" the albino now yelled, coming onto the bridge with his personal tablet. "Got a note from Adnan. He says Tino wants to talk to us when we get there."

"Maybe he's got another package_,_" Mathias laughed. "But, whatever. Who's going to stay with the ship? Two people have to stay this time, if we're taking both kids at once."

"I'll stay. There's nothing down there I really need to see." Gilbert set the tablet on a table and flopped into his chair by the data banks.

Lovino shook his head. "You keep getting stuck babysitting the ship, though, you idiot. I don't like that."

"Why not? It's just fucking Jones. Not like some new exciting place."

Mathias agreed. "I wish Jones had a real dock, not just a pod bay. Then it wouldn't matter."

"Well, it's not like we're going to keep coming back here, bastard. We'll drop these guys off and leave. After Tino tells us whatever he has to say."

"You say that now, but I bet we have to keep coming back for some reason. Want to make a bet?" Gilbert's eyes gleamed.

So did the Dane's. "What kind of bet?"

"Bastards, you are altogether too interested in betting," Lovino laughed, as Mathias stood up in his eagerness. "What is it about you two and gambling?"

"Just a fun way to pass the time. I'll make a bet, Gilbert."

"Kesesese! Okay. Let's bet that…in the next twelve months, we end up going to Jones – not to Mars in general, but specifically to Jones – at least, oh, five times."

"Pfft. Even I'd take that bet, stupid. There's no fucking way." Lovino kicked the console idly.

"Well, then? Shake on it."

All three of the friends shook hands. "Wait. Don't count this time," Lovino demanded. "Five times after this."

"Fine, but then the twelve-month period starts after we leave this time."

"Deal."

"What does the winner get?" Mathias wondered.

"Hah, hm, well, let's think about it. We have a whole awesome year to come up with something."

The blond nodded. "Suits me. Hey, I'm going to run down to the lunchroom for some drinks. You guys want anything?"

"Yeah, bring me a cup of coffee, if you would. I really need a damn espresso machine on the bridge."

"That'd be awesome," Gilbert agreed, "except a beer keg would be even better!"

"Dammit, you moron. If we got drunk flying this ship around, we'd end up out past Pluto! Just bring the coffee, please?" Lovino sank his head into his hands. Why did the albino bastard always have these crazy ideas? He pictured a drunken spaceship whirling around in space, doing irregular loop-de-loops and crashing into planets.

Mathias left and Arthur returned with the others. "Bathrooms all clean, Captain Vargas," Vladimir said cheekily, saluting. Arthur fought a grin.

Lovino rolled his eyes with a short laugh. "Thanks, bastards. Take a break for a while."

"Okay. Anybody want to play cards or something?" Emil pulled a well-worn pack of cards from his pants pocket.

Arthur took them from him. "These cards look like they've been through Hell and back."

"W-we used to practice playing blackjack. So we could go to the casino and win. But we never did."

"We _rarely_ did," the fanged bastard corrected. "Sometimes we did."

"Well, yes, because they want to string you along and keep you playing!" Lovino couldn't believe anybody could be that dopey. "If you lost all the time, you'd give up going and they'd lose customers."

"Eh, whatever. I don't feel like playing cards," Arthur said. "Does anyone mind if I go lie down for a while?"

"It's awesomely all right with me!"

Arthur nodded and left; Mathias returned with the coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Lovino sipped. "They want to play cards. Want to?"

"Not enough room for five players on the bridge." Mathias looked around as though considering a furniture rearrangement, which was of course impossible, since everything was bolted down.

But Lovino saw an opening. "You bastards play. I need to get some work done." Of course his friends would understand where he was going, but hopefully the stupid students wouldn't. Carefully carrying his coffee cup, he hurried to his quarters and Arthur, ignoring the "kesesese" behind him.

Arthur sat cross-legged on the bed. "I hoped you'd show up." The blond patted the bunk. "Come sit."

"Wait until I finish this coffee." Lovino slurped it down in record time and hopped onto the bunk.

They lay back and rested together comfortably for a few minutes, speaking of this and that. "Dammit. I'm really glad we didn't decide to take the leap to do cruise ship shit."

"Me too. I'm not comfortable right now."

"Bastard, we're snuggled up in bed together! Why aren't you comfortable?"

"Git. I meant with them on the ship. I'm perfectly comfortable _right this minute_." He took Lovino's hand in his.

The brunet sighed. "I know. Well, it'll be over soon."

"Yeah. I'm not even looking forward to taking Roderich and his family back to Earth."

"But that's just a couple of days. And it's the last thing we really _need_ to do."

"Did we decide what to do after that?"

"Arthur, we're the most indecisive bunch of idiots I ever met. No. Nobody's even made a suggestion. Why? Got someplace you want to go?"

"I'd like to go back to London, as long as we're going to Earth anyway," his friend replied, lifting Lovino's hand to his lips and kissing the fingers. "Maybe spend some real time away from them, if we can afford it, in a hotel or something. I'd like to show you around, do touristy things, and – and visit all those places I miss."

"We can do that," Lovino told him softly. He always wanted to indulge Arthur, who had spent so much of his life indulging him. "I'm sure we can talk those two into going off somewhere."

"Thank you. You're very good to me." Arthur shifted onto his side and gave him a beautiful smile. "I'm so grateful that we found each other."

Lovino reached out and held him close. "So am I, Arthur. Very much so."

They spent an hour or so this way, discussing things they needed and wanted to do, and then Lovino shifted himself on the bed. "Do you mind if I write in my diary? It's been a while."

"I don't mind at all. Go ahead. Do you mind if I actually do take a nap?"

The brunet laughed. "Nap away. I'll watch over you while I work."

"Aw. My guardian bastard angel."

"Shut up!"

…

Emil packed his bag and Vladimir's into the ship's pod for transport down to Jones. "Come on, Vlad, get moving."

"Yeah, all right." Since Gilbert and Arthur were staying with the ship, both the younger boys shook their hands and thanked them, and then Emil gave the Brit a brief but very heartfelt hug.

"Just take care of yourselves, yeah?" Arthur ruffled the boy's hair, feeling protective again. "Don't go doing anything stupid." Emil nodded and boarded the pod.

"Come back and see us sometime!" Vladimir yelled, climbing in after Lovino and Mathias, and Gilbert launched it down to the Jones dock, laughing.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Made a bet with Doc D and the Captain."

"You make them sound like some bloody superhero team or something. What bet?"

"Lovino doesn't think we'll ever come back to Jones after this."

"Hah," Arthur interrupted. "I used to think that. I used to think that once I'd gotten away I'd shift heaven and earth to stay away. But we went back that time we stole the Navy ship – er, you know what I mean – and now we're back again." He shook his head sadly.

"Kesesese! That's just what I meant. None of us ever want to come back, but we keep getting drawn back here. So I bet them we'd be back five times in the next year."

"Counting this one?" Arthur thought about this.

"Nope. Five more times after this."

"Well, we'll see if you're right. I suppose you're not allowed to go making up fake excuses to come back?"

Gilbert laughed happily. "It'd totally be worth it to get Lovino all pissed off, kesesese!"

They kept laughing as they headed for the bridge to wait.

…

Down on the dock several people awaited the pod's arrival: Tino, Adnan, and – Roderich? "What the hell are you doing here, bastard?"

"I'll explain later," the dark-haired man said, amidst the flurry of greetings.

Tino shook Mathias' hand, almost gushing. "It's so good to see you so healthy, Mathias! You look wonderful!"

That was about the weirdest comment he'd ever heard the ex-Persephone commander make. Mathias simply returned a smile. "These two are healthy again, too," he said, to deflect his discomfort, pointing to Vlad and Emil. Then he fiddled with a new discreet device that Gilbert had strapped to his wrist that morning. He didn't want anyone asking questions, though, so he tugged his sleeve down to cover it. Even Lovino didn't know about it.

"Boys, welcome back," Adnan told them with a grin, shaking their hands. "You'll find that Jones Academy is a very different kind of place now. A much safer place."

"Okay." Vladimir didn't sound too impressed. "Can we room together now? I need to take care of Emil."

Adnan observed them both quietly for a few seconds before nodding. "Yes. If it's that important to you."

"It is."

Emil didn't speak but offered a smile.

"Well, come along," the principal concluded, gesturing; "I know Tino and Roderich have business with these two."

"Thank you again, sir," Emil told Lovino, shaking his hand.

Mathias could see that Lovino was trying not to be rude or scowl, but he could also see that it was very difficult for his friend! He wondered if Lovino would ever get used to being their figurehead. Probably not. The Dane clapped a hand on Emil's shoulder. "Just go," he laughed. "We know you're safe, we know you're grateful. Just do the smart thing, yes?"

"Yes." He and Vlad shook hands with Mathias one more time and then Adnan led the two boys away.

"So, what's up?" Lovino asked Roderich.

"Where's Gilbert?" the Austrian countered nervously.

Both the friends laughed. "Watching the ship, with Arthur. Dammit, if I'd known you'd be here, maybe I would have let him come down instead of me!"

Everyone laughed at that, although Roderich sounded as though he were forcing the reaction. "Well, I mainly wanted to tell you that we won't be needing your services to go back to Earth."

"What? Why not?" Mathias began to panic about the money before remembering they didn't really need it.

"Let's walk and talk at the same time," Tino suggested, wedging himself in between Mathias and Lovino.

This was very strange, but he rolled with it. Lovino shrugged and walked behind the two of them with Roderich. Luckily Tino didn't speak, so Mathias could overhear their conversation. "Elizaveta and I have decided to move back to the Jones dome. We thought about it, and had a lot of discussions, and we realized that Earth might not be any kind of improvement over Switzerland Dome. We don't know many people there, and Earth is a very large place. By contrast a number of our friends and acquaintances live under this dome already, and while it might not be the most socially exciting place in the solar system, at least there are people here that we're comfortable with, people we trust. We'll be able to make a life here."

"What will you do? For work, I mean?" the Italian asked him.

"We're both going to teach at the Academy! We'll need to find a nanny for Lili, but we're both very excited. My wife is already developing her curriculum for the coming school year, which is going to be about the recent history of the Government, and the Resistance."

"That actually sounds like fun work."

"Will you come to the refectory?" Tino interrupted. "There won't be any students there, and we can talk."

Mathias met Lovino's eyes. "S-sure, bastard," the brunet stammered. Maybe he saw how weird Tino was acting, too. "Uh, could you do me a favor?" he asked Roderich, who was about to head off in a different direction. "Send Gilbert a note about the cancellation? I, ah, I don't really think I'm likely to forget, but at least he and Arthur can have a heads-up."

"Yes. I'll do that right now. Thank you again, Lovino." They shook hands. "I have to go. Elizaveta's in the town, spending the day with Lili and Feliks, and I promised her I'd get back as soon as I spoke to you. But – oh, yes. She was very happy, _very _happy, to receive the, ah, photograph that you sent her from your vacation?" He raised his eyebrows.

Lovino and Mathias both smiled and nodded, understanding. "Say hi to them for us. And best of luck to you," Mathias added. Roderich hurried off, waving.

The Dane felt a little better now that he and Lovino weren't outnumbered. "What do we need to talk about?" he asked Tino. "We thought we'd just drop off the students and go."

"Ah, well, we've been seeing your advertisements here! You are all becoming sort of famous, with your fancy ads. 'Local boys made good' and all that. So Berwald and I have a little job for you. Nothing big."

Oh, yes, they'd have to cancel all those expensive ads, if they weren't going to be in the transport business anymore. Mathias hoped he could remember that, to discuss later.

They entered the empty refectory. "Is there still coffee in this thing?" Lovino asked, gesturing to the big urn that always stood on the side table.

"There should be. Please pour some for yourselves and come sit."

At the urn, Mathias took the opportunity to whisper to his friend. "He's acting weird."

"Don't I know it, bastard. Stay alert."

The blond nodded and took his mug to the table, followed by Lovino; they sat together, opposite Tino.

"Well?" the Italian demanded.

"Berwald and I have a special package that needs to be delivered to Copenhagen. Do you have any objection to returning there?"

"N-not particularly, no." Mathias raised an eyebrow at Lovino, who shrugged subtly. "Wh-what kind of package?"

"Oh, just some paperwork, a few trinkets. About the size of an orfball, I'd say." Tino laughed. "That's a great game! I hadn't remembered how much fun it was until I came back here to live."

"You've got to be joking." Lovino snorted. "That's the – " But he interrupted himself. "Go on. What about this package?"

"Nothing, really. I just don't want to entrust it to a supply pod. Do you have a destination after this? How soon would you be able to return to Earth?"

The suspicious Lovino raised a warning eyebrow to Mathias, who grinned, leaving it up to him. "We can probably get it there within the month," the brunet said. "Got some other things to attend to."

"That should be fine. I'll go get it now. Berwald will probably want to say hello to you, also! Please wait here." Tino leaped up from the bench and left the refectory.

"Weird," Mathias repeated. "Isn't it bothering you?"

"Hell, yes, but if it's just a package – "

"This time I'm going to open it, once we're safe on the Bunny," Mathias whispered. "I can't take this anymore."

"Only if it's a unanimous vote. I don't want the rest of us getting in trouble for something you decided on your own."

He thought about this. "Yeah. That makes sense. Okay."

They didn't talk much after that. "This coffee still sucks," Lovino did say at one point, but mostly they both sat there daydreaming and drinking it.

Tino and his husband arrived, the former carrying a wrapped package of the stated size. "Here you go. The address is clearly marked."

After greeting Oxenstierna, Lovino named their price. "In advance, please."

"Of course! But I don't have a tablet here. I'll attend to it after dinner. You'll both be staying?"

Shit. Mathias didn't want to stay and he'd bet Lovino didn't either. He wondered how to say it without being rude, but Lovino handled it. "I don't think so. We do have work to attend to."

"'S okay, Tino. I c'n send th' money now; Sad'k will let m'do it fr'm his office. Good t'see y'both looking s'healthy," the maintenance man told them both, clapping Mathias on the shoulder before leaving.

Every suspicious nerve in Mathias' body was tingling at this repeated commentary about his health. He reached under the table and pressed a button on his hidden wrist device, just once. He hoped Gilbert's little invention worked.

…

"Well, this is weird," the albino told Arthur. "I just got a note from Rod. They don't need our transport services anymore!"

"That is weird. What did he say?" Arthur walked over to look at the message.

"Just that. Bizarre. I wonder if something happened."

Arthur picked up the tablet and looked at the back of it, as though there would be a clue there. "No idea. Write back."

"But what if something's – " Gilbert interrupted himself as a strange low drone came from the communications panel.

"What the bloody hell's that? Something malfunctioning?" Arthur rushed over but Gilbert beat him to it.

"Kesesese! It works!" He took Arthur's hands and spun him around the bridge, laughing. "It works!"

"Wh-what works? What?" The blond finally yanked his hands away and stopped the impromptu dance, breathless. "What are you talking about?"

The noise had continued all this time and Gilbert now ran to the com panel and pushed a button three times quickly. "Awesome!"

Arthur flopped down in the captain's chair. Gilbert would tell him when he was ready.

Apparently he was ready right now. "I invented a new thing, kesesese. Mathias has it on his wrist and he just signaled me!"

But that was all he said. Very gently, Arthur asked, "What sort of a thing?"

"Oh, it's just a communications thing. Just – well, it's pretty basic right now, but I'm working on it. It looks like a wristwatch, but when he has something to tell me he presses a button and it makes the noise you heard."

"So, then what? You open a com channel?"

"Well, no, because I can't fit all the com tech into a wristwatch size yet. But I'm working on it! All he can do is send me a beep, or a series of beeps, and then all I can do is beep back to let him know I got the message. Which I just did."

"Are you using some kind of code?" Arthur came over and stared at the com panel, which was now, of course, silent.

"Not really. Not like a real code. I guess if something was really wrong he'd just do a bunch of short beeps? Like panicky beeps? We didn't really talk about it. He'd probably do something beepier than that, if there was a real problem."

Arthur went back to the captain's chair and sat in it, spinning around, picturing himself commanding the ship and telling Lovino what to do. Hah. "You ought to work out some kind of real code system, git. Even if you just recycled some old Earth code, or whatever. It's silly just to sit here beeping back and forth at each other not knowing what you're talking about."

"That's a good idea. I might as well look that up now. Since I know he's all right, beeping me."

"What do you call this new gizmo? Beep Tech? Ha ha ha."

"Don't be stupid, Artie. But I haven't actually given it a name yet. It's kind of pointless until I can figure out how to get the speaker tech into something that small."

"But aren't there small com units you could use? Handhelds?"

"Yes, but they can't travel across space distances, only on land. Right now you and I are near the furthest part of Mars orbit from Jones, and a handheld com definitely couldn't throw voice signals that far. So that's what I need to work on. After I accomplish that, I'll give it an awesome name."

"I have faith in you," Arthur told him, though he wasn't sure whether he really did or not.

…

Students began to enter the refectory for dinner, so Mathias and Lovino made their awkward excuses to Tino and rose. "We need to get downtown before we go back to the ship," the brunet explained, shaking Tino's hand and taking the package.

"Thank you for handling this. I suppose we'll see you again soon?" Tino beamed at Mathias and shook his hand. "You take care of yourself, now, all right? Stay healthy!"

Once again the Dane forced a smile, allowing the incoming students to push between them. He and Lovino took this advantage and fled, Mathias taking the parcel. "Dammit." Together they pelted down the path towards the town.

"Why are we going to town?"

"Packing tape," Lovino wheezed. "Fuck, I'm out of shape. If we're going to open the package, we need tape to reseal it."

"Okay." They ran onward.

…

When the pod docked back at the Bunny, the two travelers stumbled out of it in a hurry; Arthur and Gilbert were both there to meet them. "I got your beeps, hot stuff," Gilbert laughed.

"Get to the bridge," Lovino barked. "It's important."

He and Mathias scurried right off to the bridge, leaving the other two staring in confusion. "Go, git. I'll secure the pod bay doors and all that." Arthur moved to do this; Gilbert walked calmly back to the bridge.

By the time Arthur got back there, the other three were standing around with their eyes on a parcel wrapped with brown paper that sat on top of the com panel. Lovino had a shopping bag at his feet, and Mathias stood biting his nails.

"Hurry up, bastard. We need to talk." Lovino flapped a hand in agitation.

"What's in the bloody box?"

"Th-that's the whole problem." Mathias stammered a little. "Listen to this." Between them he and Lovino recounted the day's events. "When I beeped you, that was when Oxenstierna told me he was glad I looked so healthy. I feel like a damn ox being fattened for slaughter!"

"Kesesese! Well, I'm glad the beep thing worked, anyway."

"What the fuck's all this beep talk?" Lovino demanded.

"Not important right now. Sorry, Gilbert, but it's not. Just hold on and you can tell him later." Mathias wiped some sweat from his brow. "After that, Tino told us to stay healthy. It was really kind of scary."

"So you think there's something in this ruddy box that's going to harm Mathias? Or all of us?"

"Might be," Lovino conceded. "Don't know. My brain's been over and over this, and I can't think of a single thing that might fit in a box this size that might harm him. I mean, shit, yes, a weapon, but unless it's some kind of explosive, which risks killing all four of us, I can't see what it might be that could hurt him! If it's just some weapon like that thing Zwingli carries, well, it'd just be a fucking weapon in a box. Couldn't hurt him unless someone picked it up and shot him."

"Maybe that's it, though. Maybe when we deliver it, the chap it's addressed to will open it and shoot him?"

"But _why?_" Mathias wailed. "What did I ever do? If they were going to execute me for the crime, why go through all that 'clear my name' crap?"

"Calm down," Gilbert told him, putting an arm around his shoulders and staring at the box. "I think we should open it and see."

"And anyway, gits, if they're _happy_ to see him so healthy, why hurt him? I think you're overreacting."

Lovino ignored this. "Wh-what if it is an explosive?"

"You think Tino's that insane? After all these years commanding Persephone he finally cracked and wants to kill someone with explosives in a box?" The Brit forced a laugh. "Not bloody likely."

"Wait a second," Gilbert said, musing. "Just wait." He began to pace. "Tino is from, where, Norway?"

"Finland, idiot. Remember? You looked up his fucking marriage certificate?"

"Okay, well, Finland, that's still pretty close to Denmark, right?"

"Just tell us what you're thinking, bastard. No fucking little school quizzes, please."

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Ah. All right. I'm – I'm just wondering if maybe Tino is Mathias' long-lost brother or something."

Dead silence reigned on the bridge, before Lovino burst out laughing. "Bastard, you have the most dramatic ideas!"

But the albino scowled at this. "I'm serious. Because, listen! He cleared Mathias' name, right? Why? We never really settled that discussion, because we had no idea about it. An influential man might do that for his little brother, even if the little brother really was a convicted criminal. Sorry," he told his boyfriend.

"That's all right. Keep talking. I'm interested to hear where you're going with this."

"It also explains why he and Oxenstierna are so happy that you're in good health."

"Tino I grant you, bastard, but why the hell would Oxenstierna care so much?"

"Because they're _brothers-in-law_," Gilbert growled through clenched teeth. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder what I'm doing with you mental defectives. Try to keep up!"

Arthur poked him but nobody else spoke for a minute.

"There's still a flaw in the theory, though. Why wouldn't he tell me? Why is he just giving me random packages to deliver, instead of telling me about it?" Mathias nudged the box.

"Open it," Lovino decided.

"We can't open it, git! Just like before, we have nothing to reseal it with!"

Lovino smirked and pulled a roll of packing tape out of the shopping bag. "Open it."

"Impressive," Arthur whispered; the brunet jabbed him with an elbow.

"I'm not going to open it," Mathias decided. "I don't care if someone else wants to, but…"

"I'll open it. It's killing me not to know!" Gilbert grabbed the box and very carefully peeled off the existing packing tape. The other three stood warily watching, as if the box really was programmed to explode.

"Huh, nothing," Gilbert finally said, when it was open. "Just a bunch of paperwork and a lump of rock. Looks like a plain old piece of Mars rock."

"What's the paperwork about?" Arthur reached in and grabbed the top paper and began to read it to himself, while Gilbert flipped through the other papers in the box. "Huh. This is in some language I don't know."

"Finnish, probably," Lovino decided, taking the paper from Arthur and staring at it. "Could be." He stuffed it back into the box.

"There are two possibilities here," Gilbert then decided, putting the rock back into the box. "Either this is legit – and in that case yes, we have to wonder just why Mars rock is so interesting all of a sudden, and what Tino has to do with it – or it is, in fact, a Finnish code." He scanned the paper. "Code, I'm guessing."

"How can you be so sure? You read Finnish?" Mathias took the box and peered inside. "And what does that have to do with me being so healthy?" He took a paper but apparently Danish was a lot different from Finnish. He put it back in the box almost immediately.

"If it's in _code_, you Danish dope, it could mean anything! How the hell would I know?"

"Fuck it," Lovino decided. "We can't do shit about it. Pack it up again and let's forget about it." He reached for the packing tape and started to seal it back up.

"Yeah. I don't think we have to worry, you know. I think Tino's just happy to see his friend in awesome good health?"

"B-but that's what worries me the most," Mathias stammered. "Tino and I are not – not particularly good friends. He has no real reason to think highly of me!"

"Except if he's your brother."

"Forget that shit, bastard; or do some research and try to prove it. What about on Persephone? You two didn't get to become good friends, or did you?"

Gilbert's eyes widened crazily. "Kesesese! Now, if it was _Norge…_"

"Shut up, Gilbert. Just shut up about him."

Arthur and Lovino glanced at each other, puzzled, but neither of the others enlightened them about Norge.

"Fine, bastards. We'll take it to Copenhagen right away, we'll all go together to the drop point, and then we'll get the hell out of there."

"Okay. What will we do after that?"

"Oh!" Gilbert remembered. "Rod cancelled our job."

"We know. He just sent the note as a formality." Mathias explained the Edelsteins' plans.

"Hah. You're going to win that bet, Gilbert," Arthur laughed.

"Ah, who the hell gives a flying fuck." Lovino sat in the com chair. "Let's get away from Mars. Again. Deliver the fucking package and then come up with a plan."

"Aye, Captain."

…

Bearing the package, the four friends were admitted to the former palace of the kings of Scandinavia, which had been converted to a museum about eighty years ago, after standing derelict for a long time. Now called the Palace Museum, it had been renovated carefully and was a striking example of early sustainable architecture. Mathias had never been here, and he found himself gawking a little at the displays of Danish weaponry as they were ushered into the presence of the museum's curator, Ms. Mancham.

The Dane found her quite exotic, with tan skin and long brown hair coiled efficiently atop her head. "Thank you for delivering the parcel. Are you staying in a hotel while you're here?"

"Yes," Lovino told her, naming their hotel. "Will you have a return parcel for Mr. Oxenstierna?"

She kept her eyes on Mathias while speaking to the Italian. "We may have something. It will be at least a day. I will be in contact with you tomorrow sometime."

Mathias couldn't make himself break the stare, although Lovino continued speaking to her. "That's fine. We'll wait for your message."

"Good afternoon," she told them, still watching Mathias.

…

The next day the four friends ate lunch together and then agreed to meet poolside for a bit of swimming and relaxation. Mathias really wanted to swim. He loved it, and hadn't been able to swim at all since he'd been condemned to Jones. He and Gilbert changed hastily into newly-purchased swim trunks in their room and headed down to the hotel's pool.

"Kesesese! Now, nothing too strenuous. Don't want you getting a cramp right after eating, Doctor."

"Good point, and you do the same. Let's just splash around in the shallow end for a while."

No one else was in the pool area except Arthur and Lovino. The blond stood on the diving board, lightly bouncing up and down as if he were working up his nerve to jump in; Lovino sat on the edge with his feet paddling in the water, watching him. "Hey, bastards."

"I love swimming!" Gilbert yelled, dropping his gear and diving right in. His friends waited until he'd surfaced, laughing, and then Arthur began a real approach on the diving board. He stepped forward once, twice, bouncing firmly on the end, and then someone behind Mathias cleared his throat loudly and they all turned to look. Arthur fell awkwardly into the pool and almost landed on Gilbert.

Three serious-looking blond men, whose physiques threatened to split the seams of their expensive dark suits, stood before them. "Mr. Kohler?" the center man asked pleasantly.

Mathias nodded automatically, his eyes wide. Wh-who were these men?

"We are from the National Committee. Please get dressed and come with us. The Directors need to speak with you immediately."

…

_Ms. Mancham = Seychelles_


	35. Noblesse Oblige

_I apologize if this comes to your inbox too many times. Apparently the chapter has not shown up, even though the notification went out, so I'm deleting/replacing the chapter. Thanks for your patience._

_Congratulations to maplepancakes99, Orithyea and Chairisse! But…no cannibals or radioactive shit in this chapter, sorry. Maybe later._

…

**Noblesse Oblige.**

"Now wait just a minute, bastards," Lovino barked, jumping up from the water's edge. The two swimmers broke from their paralysis and climbed out of the pool. All three ranged themselves alongside Mathias protectively, although Arthur and Gilbert were still dripping all over the place. "What the fuck's going on?" Lovino continued. "National Committee?"

"Where Mathias goes, we go," Gilbert added hotly.

The spokesman shrugged. "That's fine. Please get dressed and come with us."

Damn! All they had with them were t-shirts and sandals. "May we go back to our hotel rooms to get dressed properly?" Mathias asked, trying to sound humble, reaching for his towel and holding his breath.

"Of course," the man said, smiling. "This is an important occasion, after all. We'll wait for you in the lobby."

Lovino had wasted no time scooping up their gear and they all ran to the elevator. "What the fuck, what the absolute _fuck_ now?" he wailed, once the doors had shut.

"Don't – don't panic," Arthur answered, panicking, taking his things from his friend. "They must trust us enough to let us get to our rooms. So it's not that important. If we were in trouble for something they wouldn't let us go out of their sight in case we escaped."

"True." Gilbert had kept his cool and was nodding. "They said it's an 'important occasion.' That doesn't sound too threatening."

"Could be sarcasm, though, you dimwit. Could be Tino fucked up the paperwork when he thought he'd cleared Mathias' record, and now they're going to terminate him? Or maybe the bastard was lying about clearing the record."

Before anyone could panic further, Arthur repeated himself. "But they wouldn't risk him getting away! Let's just calm down and go down to meet them. We can fight and run later, if we have to, but – but if we run now, it's going to make us look guilty, and we don't even know what the problem is."

They'd reached their floor by now. "You're right, bastard. So, let's get dressed – make yourself look good, so they don't think we're a bunch of hoodlums – and we'll all go, and stand by you, Mathias. You know that."

"I do know that," he said. "Okay. We'll be strong and act confident until they tell us what the hell's going on, and then we'll figure out what to do next?"

"Yes," Lovino stated from down the hallway, unlocking their door. "Meet here in five minutes."

…

The thugs – because that's certainly what they looked like to Mathias – ushered them calmly into a sleek black hoverlimo and they swept through the streets of Copenhagen, earning interested glances from the pedestrians along the route. "Drink?" the spokesman offered to the Dane, opening a little niche with bottles of liquor stowed in it.

"N-not for me, thanks," Mathias answered. His friends didn't say a word. This really didn't seem like any kind of punishment or problem, unless they were trying to soften him up and make him do something stupid. He felt the weight of Gilbert's beep watch thingamajig on his wrist; somehow it felt comforting to him, as though Gilbert himself were holding on to him and keeping him focused. But of course all four of them were sitting primly with their hands folded in their laps, not meeting anyone's eyes.

To their amazement the hoverlimo stopped outside the Palace Museum. "Here we are, sirs," one of the (slightly) smaller men said, hopping out to open the door for them.

Everyone got out; Mathias was the only one still nervous, or so it seemed. Maybe his friends were just better at being subtle about it. "Please come with us," the spokesman directed. They followed; the Dane was too distracted to gawk this time.

Inside the museum they were led straight to Ms. Mancham again, this time wearing a white business suit. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"Hi," Gilbert said, with a cheeky grin; the thugs melted into the woodwork and Mathias never saw them again.

The curator pressed a button on her desktop and Von Bock entered. "Eduard," Ms. Mancham announced, "I believe you remember Mr. Kohler and his friends?"

"What?" Gilbert yelped, as Von Bock grinned and nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now," the ex-hacker said, still grinning, moving to shake Mathias' hand. "How are you all?"

Lovino and Arthur still didn't speak. Mathias cleared his throat. "Wh-what about Persephone?"

"Kesesese! I bet you and Norge – "

Ms. Mancham interrupted the reunion talk. "Eduard, please escort Mr. Kohler to the conference room."

"Excuse me," Lovino said more politely, scowling at the albino and then at Von Bock. "Why do you need to see him? Nobody's telling us anything, and we have business to attend to elsewhere."

She smiled; Von Bock hovered in the background anxiously. "That's between us and Mr. Kohler."

"Who is 'us'?" Arthur demanded.

But Mathias interrupted, trying to sound as formal as she did. "These are my friends and colleagues. If you have any business with me, they'll all come with us as well." But his hands were clenched into fists. He wished they'd had Gilbert try to translate those damned Finnish documents! What the hell was going on? Nervously he pressed Gilbert's beepy thing on his wrist, just for something to do; he knew it wouldn't activate anything, but it reassured him to fiddle with the button.

Ms. Mancham tilted her head and considered them all. "Very well," she ultimately concluded with a smile. "It is very good that you can command such loyalty, sir." She gestured to Eduard again, who opened the big doors behind her desk.

_Sir?_ That was mighty strange, and he could tell all the others were thinking the same thing. But Gilbert stepped up to his side and they followed Von Bock; Lovino and the Brit exchanged nervous glances and hurried after them.

In the conference room about ten other people stood as if awaiting them, including the inscrutable Norge, who met Mathias' eyes and nodded. They were _all_ dressed in white business suits. Creepy. Eduard announced, "Mr. Mathias Kohler and colleagues," before slipping silently out of the room.

Shit. Now they were trapped in this damn conference room! Well, he would fight his way out, if he had to. He wondered whether he, Gilbert and Arthur could take down all these people and escape. He certainly didn't expect Lovino to do any fighting.

Ms. Mancham entered the room again. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for joining us on such short notice. Please, be seated." The people who had already been there sat, but the four friends remained standing. "Please?" she asked with a terse smile.

Everyone looked to Lovino for the decision; he shrugged, so they sat, leaving a gap between their group and the museum employees, or whoever they were. Mathias kept his eyes on Norge. What the hell was all this about? And why weren't those two on Persephone any longer? They worked here now?

Ms. Mancham introduced everyone in the room; the group as a whole was called the National Committee, but Mathias still didn't quite grasp what that meant. Eduard then came back in with a tablet and stylus. He sat unobtrusively in a chair in the corner and began to write down notes.

"I have here the promised documents from Mr. Oxenstierna. We have verified their authenticity," the curator announced in her lilting French accent. She turned to Mathias. "Are you aware of the information contained in the packet?"

Was this a test? He was thankful he could answer this truthfully. "No, madam. W-we were just hired to deliver this package to you, which we did," he answered her. "Will you please tell me what's – "

"Please remain calm, sir. All will be made clear." She placed the Finnish documents on the table and fanned them out, tossing the lump of Mars rock into a metal trash can behind her; it made a ringing noise in the silence.

"You four may not be aware that Mr. Oxenstierna – Mr. _Tino_ Oxenstierna – is descended from King Karl XV?"

The other people (even Norge) got a little starry-eyed at that, and so did Gilbert. "We knew that," he said with a grin. "We looked him up. Just through the cousin line, though, am I right?"

Of course he was right. Gilbert never made mistakes.

"Impressive. Were you also aware that there is a living male _direct _descendant of King Karl the Fifteenth?"

Mathias froze. She couldn't possibly mean –

"Do you mean Mathias?" Gilbert asked cheekily. "Hah! Now that's –"

Lovino hissed and Gilbert shut up.

"Yes. Mr. Kohler is a direct descendant of King Karl." Everyone in the room now stared happily at the tall blond, who began blushing fiercely. Even Norge was smiling faintly! And his friends were grinning like apes. Bastards. He'd get them for this, later.

Then her statement got through to the Dane, and he blinked in amazement. Could he really be descended from some moldy old king? Who the hell cared? And were these people all just hanging around to meet the guy's descendant, maybe shake his hand? "So what?"

Arthur, who was seated next to him on the other side, slipped his hand out and pinched his thigh in warning, but Mathias kept talking. "Ow. There haven't been kings in forever!"

"This is true," Ms. Mancham agreed. "However, the new Government is going to break the planet up into its old administrative districts and allow each district to choose its own form of governance, with a head of state subordinate to a new ruling Council of Earth. Perhaps, space-traveling as you've been, you were unaware of this. But the Nordic countries are one such administrative district. We have long hoped and worked for a return to the monarchy. Until Mr. Tino Oxenstierna discovered your existence and connection to the royal house, he had been the forerunner for the throne."

Mathias actually pinched himself this time. This was unreal. "So, what, you – you expect me to become some kind of figurehead Scandinavian king? Sit around waving for the media?" Hah, now he knew just how ridiculous Lovino must feel when they all started treating him like the boss. He vowed never to do that to his friend again.

"We don't _expect_ anything," Ms. Mancham said. "It is your destiny, Mr. Kohler." She sat back looking smug.

"Destiny," Lovino snorted under his breath, hiding his grin with his hand. At first Mathias was shocked at this levity, but then he realized his friend was right. This whole situation was damn silly. Tino – and probably Oxenstierna, and Norge, and Eduard, and who the hell knew who else – had known about this for a long time, he'd bet. If it was that important, why hadn't they told _him_? Yes. This was monumentally stupid, and this Committee was made up of idiots. He pressed Gilbert's beepy thing again for reassurance.

"It's not just destiny. It is an honor for you, Your Majesty!" One of the other (shocked) men nodded intently. Both Lovino and Gilbert spluttered with laughter, at that, further relieving the Dane. If they all felt the same way, he knew they could all work together to get him out of this crazy situation.

"I assure you, it is no laughing matter," the curator snapped, silencing them instantly. "We are the National Committee for the Restoration of the Monarchy and have been eagerly waiting to meet you and invest you as King."

Mathias now knew that his only 'destiny' was to remain calm about this and get them all away fast, with the minimum of fuss, no matter how ridiculous it was. Once they were on the ship, they'd escape and be safe, and no doubt spend a lot of time laughing over this shared memory. "Thanks for your, ah, consideration, or whatever, but I don't want to be king! I – uh – I have a lot of other work to do?" Shit, he didn't, not really.

"That work can be done by others. This work can only be done by you."

"Not so," Lovino spoke up, meeting Norge's eyes. "You said Tino was the ba—the man who would have been king, if you hadn't found Mathias. Use Tino."

"We cannot ask Mr. Tino Oxenstierna to be the king of Northern Europe." Ms. Mancham shook her head.

"Why not? He's awesomely good at managing people, and _commanding loyalty, _kesesese."

"Oh," Arthur said. "It's because – " But he stopped speaking. Mathias wondered what he meant. Oh. Because Tino had a husband? Well, he'd marry Gilbert, if he had to, to get out of this stupid king job.

But no. "Because Mr. _Kohler_ is the true heir to the throne! We cannot simply ask Mr. Oxenstierna to do the job. That's not how royalty works."

He was hopeful now. "I could ask, though. Couldn't I? Abnegate or whatever it's called? And then Tino would be king?"

"_Abdicate_," Ms. Mancham said with a scornful look. "I don't believe – "

"Yes, you can, bastard." Everyone in the room drew back at these words of Lovino's, but Mathias grinned, thankful for any help in this situation. "If you're really the heir, then, yes, you can make the decision to step down and name Tino in your place. And if you're not really the heir, then this is nothing to do with you and we can just go."

Gilbert asked sensibly, "What if Tino doesn't want to do it either?"

"Young Mr. Oxenstierna was groomed for this all his life, until adverse circumstances drove him to flee the Jones Academy. He would do it. He, at least, understands his duty to his country." The curator uttered this in a disdainful tone, as if she couldn't believe Mathias would truly be so negligent as to _abdicate_.

"It isn't really a country, though," Arthur pointed out. "Not anymore, or not yet again. Mathias isn't necessarily loyal to it as a place. Am I right?" he appealed to the Dane.

"You're right. I have no loyalty to any places. Just to my friends." Mathias reached out one hand to Gilbert and one to Arthur, nodding at Lovino.

"I don't think they can _make_ you be a king." Gilbert still held his hand under the table, though Arthur had let go of the other one. "If they held you against your will…?"

He wanted to drop this and get out of there right now_. _"I believe we've – uh – we've taken up too much of your time." Mathias tried to rise and get his friends to go with him, and all the council members rose as well. Only Eduard, in the corner, stayed seated, still furiously scribbling on his tablet.

Ms. Mancham cleared her throat. "Is it truly your wish to abandon your duties to Mr. Tino Oxenstierna?"

Mathias had had enough. "First of all, they're not 'my' damn duties! This is nothing to do with me. And second of all, I don't care who does the job. Tino or Norge or anyone else. Just not me, and not my friends. All right? Do you all understand?" He met Norge's eye, and to his surprise the Persephone man was blushing furiously.

One of the observers spoke up using a formal tone of speech. "We, the National Committee for the Restoration of the Monarchy in Northern Europe, understand that Mr. Mathias Kohler, last surviving direct male descendant of King Karl the Fifteenth, wishes to abdicate his future position as King of Northern Europe."

"We witness this," the other members chorused, except Ms. Mancham, who looked furious.

"Do you witness this, Michelle?" a man asked her.

Still glaring at Mathias, she growled out, "I witness it."

The first speaker addressed Mathias. "You are free to go, but be assured that we will follow your career with great interest. Of course if you have a male child, he would be next in line for the throne."

Hah! Even if he weren't committed to Gilbert, he'd make damn sure never to have any children, after this. Poor little hypothetical bastards.

"That's it?" Lovino wondered. "Doesn't he have to make some kind of speech for the press or whatever?"

"Since Mr. Kohler has never been officially invested as king, no formal public ceremony is required. Eduard will write up a formal document for you to sign before you leave today."

Von Bock glanced up from his work with a panicked expression, and then returned his attention to his tablet and began tapping on the screen furiously. Did he have to do everything around here?

That was a distraction, though, and they needed to focus on this. "Thanks for letting me know about it, anyway," he told Ms. Mancham, trying to be nice, "though it was kind of odd, springing it on me this way."

"I told you he needed to know," Norge muttered in a not-so-quiet voice.

Ms. Mancham scowled again. "We needed to get the confirming documents authenticated first." As everyone in the room then began to relax with the release of tension, so did she. She didn't smile, but at least she didn't look vengeful any longer.

Eduard stood up. "Ms. Mancham? Will you please proof this document I've written, and see if it is suitable for King Mathias' abdication?" He handed her the tablet and wouldn't meet Mathias' eyes, but the Dane could see he was fighting a smirk.

"Don't call him 'King Mathias.'" She looked it over. "It looks all right to me." The curator passed it to the man on her left, who also read it.

"Yes, this is fine." He slid it across the table to Mathias. "Please sign at the bottom."

Mathias read it, too; it was very basic and seemed in order, and had space for all the people in the room to sign as witnesses, even his friends. He signed and shifted it to Arthur, who signed and slid it to Lovino. When the brunet had finished, it made the rounds of all the committee members, ending with Ms. Mancham, who finally passed it to Gilbert. "I'm going to take a copy of this awesome document," he said after signing, transferring an electronic copy to his own tablet. Ms. Mancham seemed a little freaked out by this, but nobody else did. When he was done with the transfer he handed Eduard the other tablet. "Thanks." He flashed the Awesome Grin; Von Bock took the tablet and backed off.

Mathias eyed the doors. "We're free to go? No repercussions?"

"You are free to go," Ms. Mancham clarified. "No repercussions. We will be in touch with King Tino this afternoon by sat-mail."

The Dane – and all his friends, he guessed, from the expressions on their faces – fought hard not to grin at the idea of King Tino. Pfft. He dragged Gilbert out of the room with a wave to the Committee, knowing his other friends would be hot on their heels.

Outside the room he stopped short. "How the hell do we get out of here? I wasn't paying attention when we came in."

Von Bock had followed them out of the room. "I can take you to the front door of the museum, _sire_."

"Kesesese!" Everyone followed after the snarky ex-hacker. "But what happened to Persephone? Why are you here in Copenhagen?"

Eduard cleared his throat. "She didn't pass inspection. And the Resistance leaders didn't want to spend the money keeping her afloat, when basically her mission was done. So Persephone has been sent to the Space Museum in Washington, to become an exhibit both about space travel and politics. Do you remember Antonio and Francis? They stayed in Washington. Antonio loved that ship so much that he wanted to stay there and work on the exhibit."

"What about grabby Francis? Why did he stay?" Gilbert asked. "Man, I loved beating him up."

"Beats me. Maybe he just wanted to stay with Antonio."

"Thanks for the warning, bastard. We'll stay the fuck away from Washington!"

Mathias thought of a question they'd had, that Von Bock might be able to answer. "Hey. Who is, or was, the head of the whole Resistance?"

Eduard was taken aback. "I don't know. How would I know?" But he rubbed his chin with his hand. "Norge used to talk about their directives and how they were always routed all around the solar system. We never even knew where the Resistance originated. Or, well, if he knew, he never told me." He blushed a little. "I tried back-tracing a communication, once, but it was very convoluted. I went through about sixteen steps and ended up with it back on Persephone, and couldn't get any further back than that. They had really good safeguards in place."

"I'm guessing you and Norge are still awesomely together?"

"Ah, y-yes, we are."

"Cool."

The Dane shot Gilbert a look_._ He didn't want to prolong their stay here with a lot of conversation.

By this time they'd reached the museum's front door. "May I shake your hand, sire?"

Gilbert started cackling, but Mathias figured he might as well. Von Bock had probably had hopes and dreams of working for the next king, and now that would be Tino. "Sure, but shut up about the 'sire' crap, will you?" They shook hands, sharing a grin. "Best of luck to you," he then said, escaping down the building's wide staircase after his friends.

"Queen Berwald," Arthur giggled, once they were well out of range. "Guess Tino's going to be the husband now."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"King Mathias, King Mathias. Kesesese! Or maybe we should call you 'King Denmark'? Instead of Dr. Denmark, I mean. Or even just plain 'Denmark.' Nobody else would understand why. It would be like our private name for your – your royaltyship." He bowed.

"Gilbert! Shut the hell up." Mathias put him in a headlock and barked out a short laugh.

"Ow. Oaf." He wriggled free and then gave the Dane a smile. "Explains a hell of a lot, though. No wonder Tino's so concerned about your health. Nobody wants a weak, sick king, you know."

"I wonder if Norge knew about this, before those bloody documents got here?"

The albino waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe he wanted to be the queen. That explains a lot, too, kesesesese!"

"Shut up about stupid Norge, too." Mathias punched him.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Gilbert danced up and hugged Lovino very briefly. "You were awesome in there, man. Very cool and sardonic. I kept wanting to bash someone and run."

"Me too," Mathias admitted, as Gilbert drifted back to walk with him. "Right up until Lovino backed me up about adne – abe – "

"_Abdicating!_" they yelled at him.

"Yeah, that," he laughed. "Thanks, all of you, for your support. I'm never going to let you down, never." And then he remembered his vow in the conference room. "And I'm never going to give Lovino shit about being the Captain again, either."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"Is that all you can say?" Arthur poked the brunet. "Just shut it, wanker. Let's just go back and go swimming. My hair's all full of chlorine anyway."

"Kesesese! Yep. Let's take our big brother for a swim."

"Please," Mathias begged. "Let's try to get back to normal?"

Lovino finally snapped out of his zone. "Yeah. Let's. And – and tonight, let's go have a really nice dinner somewhere. _Now_ is the time to have that party."

"Especially because this Saturday's my birthday," Arthur laughed.

"Party! Party time! Awesome Skirmish Brothers party!" Gilbert jumped around, waving his hands and laughing, and watching him, Mathias felt a huge burden lift from his heart.

…

"My god, I'm as high as a bloody kite," Arthur laughed, stumbling back to the hotel, holding on to the quiet, grinning Lovino for balance.

"I just wish I hadn't fallen out of that fucking tree."

"Well? If you were stupid enough to climb it?" Arthur tweaked his ear; Lovino smacked his hand away, and all four of them burst into little giggles.

"Kesesese! Happy birthday, everybody!" Gilbert skipped from friend to friend, kissing them all, even Lovino, who kissed him back.

"Happy birthday to you, too, brilliant boy." Mathias scooped him up and carried him over his shoulder all the way back to their room.

…

That night, Gilbert was extremely aggressive, and Mathias felt both surprised and pleased. The two of them had had no experience with lovemaking before finding each other; everything they'd done together had been born of experimentation in the safety of their shared cabin, first on Persephone, and then on the Bunny. Mathias, taller and more muscular than his friend, had always been a bit fearful of overpowering him, and so they had always been sweet and gentle with each other.

But tonight? Gilbert was a maniac! Maybe he was like this because he knew Lovino and Arthur wouldn't be able to overhear? Maybe it was just because he was high. The two of them laughed and wrestled, even fought each other a little, teasing and joking the entire time, and when the albino finally decided to allow his suffering Danish friend some release, it was so damn good. Mathias rode that wave until it crested, subsided; lying back exhausted on the hotel bed he reached out a hand to stroke the white hair. "Damn," he laughed. "Have you been taking lessons? Watching dirty movies for pointers?"

"It's all instinct, my friend. I've been thinking about awesome ways to change things up a little."

"Damn good thinking. Why all of a sudden tonight?"

"Hey, it's not every night I get to screw the ex-King of Northern Europe! Kesesese! _Ouch!_"

…

_I'm hoping Christiania will still be flourishing during this time period, too._


	36. Basic Administration

**Basic Administration.**

"Is that what Spotlight feels like, Arthur?" Leisurely eating breakfast, the friends talked about the surprising events of the previous day, and occasionally teased ex-King Mathias, who took it well. Also, Gilbert had never been high before, so he kept asking questions, trying to understand it all.

"Not at all. With Spotlight you feel – well – I don't really know how to express it. High_er_, maybe? I mean, last night, I just felt sort of happy and carefree, but I still knew what was going on. Didn't care about it much, but I realized it. Traffic, other people, we were still aware of it. Still having conversations, and whatever. With Spotlight you feel completely out of it, most of the time. It takes you out of yourself, so you're floating, dreaming, but not really aware of reality." He stopped to sip some tea. "Remember the night we went to steal the Navy ship? If we'd been smoking marijuana beforehand, we probably would have tried it, completely bungled it, gotten caught, but not worried much until the high wore off. If we'd taken Spotlight, we never would have done it. We'd have been standing around watching the flashing security lights, and obsessing about the stars and noises and the texture of the walls. I never liked the feeling. Too much out of control."

"That's exactly how I felt last night!" Gilbert thumped the table in his excitement. "I felt happy and carefree, like you said, but I also kind of felt like I was not in control. I – didn't like it much." Here he cut his eyes to Mathias and started giggling. "Well. Some of it, I did."

Mathias poked him wordlessly.

"But I really dislike the idea that I'm not in control," Gilbert continued. "I'm not going to do anything like that again."

"What, not even drinking?" Lovino smirked around the edge of his demitasse cup.

"Pfft. I'll have beer every now and then. Beer is awesome. But otherwise – no. No drugs at all."

"Better for your health that way," Dr. Denmark pointed out.

"Mental health and physical," Arthur agreed. "I'd hate to wake up some morning and find I'd done something bad. Not even counting the possible trouble I'd get into, just the – the _not-knowing_ would freak me out. That's why I never let you gits take Spotlight."

"Thank you for that." Lovino set down the cup. "But I have to wonder why it's not illegal, if it fucks you up so badly."

"Pfft. Because nobody ever caught me. I'm sure if anyone had caught me, and analyzed it, it would have become illegal really fast." Arthur tried to be cool and nonchalant with that, but sometimes the thought did terrify him, how closely he'd sailed to the wind under the noses of the Jones Academy staff. "Don't ask me to make it again, no matter how desperate we get, all right?"

Lovino reached out and took his hand.

Gilbert too smiled at him nicely. "Don't worry, Artie! I'm awesomely working on my beep thing, which is going to sell for a bazillion Galactic dollars and keep us in gravy the rest of our lives."

"I hate gravy, dammit."

Mathias snorted a little coffee. "How's that beep tech going, anyway?" He looked at the dummy thing on his wrist.

"I need to stop somewhere and buy some supplies before we go. I've got a pretty good idea of what I need, and how to shrink it, but I don't have the tools or the supplies. I'm going to buy all the awesome stuff I can think of, so that while we're wheeling around in space I can work on it."

"I need something like that," Arthur realized. "Some kind of hobby or project for when I get sick of studying. Lovino has his diary, and you have your beep tech thing, but I have nothing."

"Yeah, me neither. I need to get studying for my next medical levels, but I'd like to have something fun to do when I'm having my off time."

Arthur poked Mathias. "Maybe we should work on something together. Invent something, or build something useful, or whatever."

"Learn to cook," Lovino snorted. "I'm tired of eating canned shit."

"Didn't you awesomely say you could cook? When we were at Rod's house?"

"Yes, bastard, I can cook." He sipped his espresso.

"Well, then? Why don't you ever cook?" Arthur scowled at him.

"Because that ship's kitchen has fuck-all for utensils and shit! Why do you think? Think I can make Spaghetti Carbonara with a ladle and teakettle? Idiots."

All three of them stared at him. "Boy, for a guy cool enough to be our captain, you're really brainless," Mathias laughed. Arthur wanted to agree but he was always afraid of angering his boyfriend.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Kesesese! Why don't we go buy what you need?"

Lovino sat in shock. "Uh. Oh."

His friends laughed at him. "Too much dope last night," the Dane said, poking him. "So should we go shop for kitchen gear?"

"Yes. If this bloody wanker can cook better food for us, let's get him every blasted thing he might ever need."

"And cut back on the dope! Kesesese!"

Lovino still seemed a bit stunned. "Well, from everything you said about it this morning, I don't even _want _to get high again. Should we have another pact? About drugs?" He held out his hand.

Gilbert shook it immediately. "Another pact. No more drugs at all."

"Agreed." Arthur shook, too, first Lovino's hand, then Gilbert's.

"Except medical drugs." Mathias shook hands with each of them. "And I need to stock up the ship with some of that stuff. When Vlad was sick we were lucky we had the right stuff in the emergency kit, but we really need a more comprehensive thing. What if we all got sick at once? I'm going to get everything I'm qualified to obtain." He turned back to the food. It was excellent – a varied assortment of Danish pastries, coffee, tea, espresso, and Nutella. Mathias, who loved baked goods, was in heaven. "Well?" he asked. "Now what? We don't even have a plan for what to do next. Shopping for what we need, yeah, but after that?"

As if on cue, Von Bock wandered into the hotel restaurant. "Good morning!"

"H-hi," the Dane stammered, going white.

But the newcomer laughed. "Don't worry. I'm just here to ask you to deliver something for us." He handed a flat package to Gilbert, who was nearest.

"Bastard, do you do all the fucking work for those bozos?"

"You're not kidding," Mathias laughed, before Eduard could respond. "If I _was_ going to be the king, my first, uh, pronouncement, or whatever, would be to hire you an assistant!"

They all grinned at that. "No," Eduard told him. "I do have a lot of responsibility, but I like it. It's – different, doing all this stuff legally, instead of hacking everything. Though I wouldn't say no to an assistant, it's true."

"Have some breakfast," Arthur invited.

Eduard sat and grabbed a _Hindbaersnit_. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to see if you could deliver this envelope to Ludwig in Athens. It's got Tino's formal acceptance of the kingship, and all that."

Gilbert blinked. "Tino's back already?"

"No, no. He sent it in an overnight pod, but he and Berwald have to wrap up their lives on Mars before they come back."

"Was he pissed off? Kesesese!"

"No. Surprised, but not pissed off. Actually, Ms. Mancham said his note sounded relieved, and excited."

"What the fuck does the potato bastard want with this package?"

"The potato –?" Eduard frowned, and then his expression cleared. "Oh. You mean Ludwig. He works for the new Government now. He and Feliciano both. They're just grunts, like me, but Ludwig works as an undersecretary to one of the bigshots, so I'm sending it to him instead of addressing it to someone I don't know. I told Ms. Mancham you'd be more willing to take it if you were taking it directly to a friend. It's a rush job, so I didn't know if you could do it, but I'm authorized to offer you a lot. It needs to get there fast, today if possible."

"Don't worry. We'll do it." Gilbert named a high rate and gestured Eduard to get his tablet out to make a monetary transfer.

He pulled out his tablet, getting the particulars from the albino. "Are you getting a lot of jobs? I know there are a lot of companies that need interstellar transport. And Ms. Mancham plans to use your firm's services whenever the National Committee needs to ship something, if you're able."

"Ha, we can be 'Transport Service to His Majesty King Tino'!" Arthur held his hands out like an advertising banner.

"That reminds me, we need to have a business meeting, bastards."

Mathias poured another cup of coffee. "We can do that on the way to Athens. Hire a hoverlimo?"

After completing the cash transfer, Eduard rose. "Well, thank you. We'll be in touch."

"Take it easy, kesesese! And say hi to Norge for us, and Tino and Mr. Oxenstierna when they get here."

"Will do."

They watched him go, and Lovino absently took the package from Gilbert. "Should be fine." He hefted it.

"Probably Eduard's on the level, this time. I mean, now that the kinging business is all taken care of, what evil garbage could be in the envelope?" Gilbert grabbed it back and shook it near his ear, but it was just an envelope.

"Let's not worry about that. Let's worry about how we're going to get to Athens!" Arthur was worried indeed. "It'd be stupid to go into orbit just to come back down and dock there. Stupid and expensive."

"True. Well, we _could_ take an awesome hoverlimo, you know. I liked that one they sent for us yesterday."

"You idiot." Lovino poked him. "That'd cost a fortune too. Better to take mass transit."

Mathias drank some coffee. "I don't think so. Mass transit's cramped and noisy, and we'd probably have to stop a bunch of times along the way. If we can afford it I'd say let's do the hoverlimo. Consider the sum total of irritation of all four of us being on mass transit, compared to all four of us being calm in the hoverlimo."

Lovino scowled at him, then at Gilbert. "Well? You're the fucking financier. _Can_ we afford it?"

To his credit, the albino didn't automatically bark out "yes" just because he wanted to ride in a hoverlimo again. Arthur was impressed. Gilbert took a moment to think, and then he said, "Let's do this: we can use the money he just paid us to hire a private hoverlimo to get us to Athens, this time. I think it'd take at least a few hours to get there. So let's do it, and while we're traveling, we'll have the business meeting, talk about our finances, and how to be going forward, and stuff."

"We need to cancel our ads, too," Mathias remembered.

"I've been wondering about that. Maybe cut back on them a little, but – but it's not going to be a real problem if people want us to take stuff, right?" Arthur appealed to Lovino, the one he thought was most likely to veto this. "Why not keep the business a going concern? It'd be nice to have a little extra cash flow, and we can always turn people down if we don't want to do a job."

"Something else to talk about during our meeting. Sure, bastard," Lovino told Gilbert. "Make arrangements for us to get a hoverlimo to Athens, and we'll have our meeting on the way."

Mathias laughed. "Now we need to get _Gilbert_ an assistant!"

…

This hoverlimo wasn't as sleek as the National Committee's, but then, that one was privately funded by the monarchy-lovers. This one wasn't bad, though, Arthur thought. They climbed in; the driver and Mathias stuffed their overnight bags into the boot. In the passenger section, the bench seats faced each other, Lovino next to Arthur, and Mathias next to Gilbert. In moments they were high above the city in the long-distance lanes, heading towards the center of government in Athens.

"Well? Where do we start?" Lovino cleared his throat.

"I think Arthur had a good point yesterday. There's no real reason to close down the business, yeah? Unless the taxes or whatever business aspects you handle are going to be a headache. But if they're not, I say let's just keep the lines open. Who knows? We may get to see some fun and unusual places that way." Mathias slouched back in his seat.

"Sounds okay to me. Let awesome fate dictate our directions! Maybe Ludwig will have a job for us. It can be like a chain, you know? Connecting everyone we ever met." Gilbert pulled his tablet out. "Look, I already made a little 3D map so far, of all the planets and places we've been and who's there. So, Vlad and Emil took us back to Tino, and then Tino sent us to Norge and Eduard, and now Eduard's sending us to Ludwig. It's like an awesome connect-the-dots!"

Lovino stretched across the space separating them and tried to flick Gilbert in the forehead, but he couldn't reach. "Well, whatever," he said, subsiding back into the seat. "Whatever your bizarro reasoning is, it's fine with me. I like the idea of keeping the business afloat because it gives us more credibility. We don't look like a bunch of sybarites hopping around the solar system looking for a good time. We come across as respectable businessmen."

"That was easy," Arthur laughed. "Now, you said we had to talk about money?"

Gilbert sat up straighter. "We do, if only how we're going to go forward." He checked to make sure the driver couldn't hear them. A window separated them, but everyone leaned forward for this part, to talk in hushed tones. "You know how much money I had. And how much we had from the business at school, and the investments, and the money Lovino took out of his personal bank when we were in Berlin that time for the ship." He named their total net worth. This figure was so astonishing. Arthur had known, roughly, how much it was, but hearing it said in a lump sum was almost scary.

"Did you pay off the Bunny, bastard?"

"Yes, that's done. So, the money we have goes towards three categories, as I see it. Ship maintenance: which counts food and supplies as well as things like fuel and tech and repairs, dock fees. Touchup paint for Flying Mint Bunny and Gilbird." He flashed a grin; Lovino rolled his eyes. "Next, job-related expenses: this would be things like the hotel and meals in Copenhagen, or this hoverlimo trip. Things we wouldn't necessarily have done unless they had to do with a job."

"Right, that all makes sense, so –?"

"And then there's personal spendies. Clothes we bought at Russia Dome, dope we smoked at Christiania, paying off Vladimir and Emil's debt. Basically stuff that doesn't fit in the other two categories."

"How are we doing on that?" Mathias asked him. "Are we spending too much money on the personal shit?"

"Nah. Not too bad yet. But this is the real thing I wanted to talk about. Remember I joked about awesomely paying you boys a salary?"

"I remember, stupid."

Gilbert laughed. "Well, I think that might be a sensible way to go on. Not _me,_ you know, paying _you_ a salary, but if we set a salary figure and everyone gets that amount each month. We'll be able to control things a little better than if we all say, 'Oh, there's a casino, let's go blow a couple grand.' You know? Everyone would have their own money, and could do what they wanted, with it. Clothes, or beer, casinos, whatever."

"Git. What happens when three of us want to go to a casino and the fourth one is broke?"

Lovino patted Arthur's knee. "Don't sweat it, idiot. We'll figure that out when we need to. I like – uh – I like your idea, bastard," he told Gilbert. "I think it's – smart." Arthur began to grin; Lovino didn't even look up, just backhanded him and kept talking. "So, how much salary? How do we even figure such a thing out?"

Nobody had any ideas.

"At least we have the plan. Let's see what happens in Athens. Maybe someone will have an idea." Mathias started poking around the hoverlimo's interior.

"What are you doing, wanker?"

"Remember they had booze in the other one? Just checking to see if they had some here. But nope."

"Don't turn into a fucking alcoholic, Kingy."

"Don't call me 'Kingy'!"

"Yes, all right. Hey," Lovino said, elbowing Arthur. "Get your tablet out. I want to catch up on the news feeds."

"Kesesese! Wonder if there's anything about King Tino in the news yet?" Gilbert reclined his half of the seat. "I've got to catch up with the financial news, but let me know if you find anything about Tino. Isn't that cool? We're friends with the King of Scandinavia!"

"Pfft." Mathias poked him and reclined his half of the seat, too. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when we're coming down."

"Okay."

By now Arthur had gotten his tablet out and handed it to Lovino, but he too was interested in the news. Not just because of the new king (and queen), but because from all reports, things were starting to settle down. The cities and districts of Earth had begun to run smoothly on the rails, and he wanted to see what kind of interesting – or important – changes might be made, things that might affect them.

He leaned his chin on Lovino's shoulder as they read an article about the new policy of administrative districts that Ms. Mancham had mentioned. The article mentioned a list. Arthur finished reading the page that was on the screen and waited for Lovino to advance the page.

And waited some more. "Hello?" he whispered.

"Uh! Uh, whoops. Sorry." The brunet advanced the page, and they read, Arthur snuggling closer. Was he distracting Lovino? He kind of hoped so. Heh.

Soon they heard Mathias' gentle snoring; Gilbert continued to snicker every now and then at something he was reading. Arthur and Lovino got closer and closer as they read. Half of Arthur's mind was on the news reports, and the other half was thinking about how nice it would be to snuggle up with Lovino in a hotel bed tonight. He let out a little murmur of pleasure and shifted even closer.

"Bastard, I only have two inches left of this bench," Lovino laughed in a whisper.

"Oh! Sorry." He pulled back.

Lovino beckoned him closer and put his mouth to Arthur's ear. "I liked it, you know, but it was a little cramped."

Arthur grinned at him and then winked. "Read the next article," he said.

The Italian squeezed his hand and advanced the page. "Interesting. Laws about living on Earth versus offworld are changing dramatically," he murmured after a moment.

"I know, git. I'm reading the same article."

"Uh, shut up, stupid. I was just commenting!"

"What are the awesome new laws?" Gilbert set his tablet down to listen. Mathias was deeply asleep already.

"They're still offering bonuses to people who want to live offworld, but they aren't allowing anyone to send minors without their parents. So you either go as a family, or as a grownup you can go, but no kids being shunted off alone. Everyone going has to have gainful employment lined up before they get the bonus. And then, there are going to be special community centers built in the main domes for people who are new to the idea."

"That's a pretty good thought. Imagine choosing to go to Russia Dome and not having some kind of orientation!"

"Well, you'd end up like Emil and Vladimir," Arthur guessed. "Just floating around trying to do stuff. Any news on the financial front?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Nah, same old shit. Stock market's doing well, but not freakishly so."

"That's good, though, bastard, right? Nothing too risky for our investments?"

"Right. It's all good." The albino picked up his tablet again and began to read, and Arthur snuggled close to Lovino once more.

…

"Bastards," Lovino said later, once they'd been dropped off outside the government buildings. "I – I know we have to hurry up and get this package to the macho potato, but will one of you do the talking? I don't think I can stand to deal professionally with him. That uptight bastard really rubs me the wrong way." He hefted his bag onto his shoulder.

"I'll do it," Mathias said. "Close the kingship loop, and all that. Come on. Let's go do it, and then explore a little."

"Have any of you ever been to Athens?" Arthur wondered, as they headed outside to find the way.

No one had. Gilbert seemed surprised. "Not even you, Lovino? Your father never brought –"

_"Fuck!"_ Lovino yelled, startling everyone in earshot. Arthur turned to him and he was white, holding his hand over his mouth.

"What's the matter?" he hissed.

Lovino beckoned all his friends closer. "I – I never thought of that. He – he was Government, you know," he whispered. "If he's still marked for termination then – then if they know I'm his son –" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"Well, that's easy enough," Mathias said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Stay with us, and nobody mention his name, all right?"

Gilbert and Arthur nodded furiously. "Maybe we should come up with some awesome nickname for you, like we have for Doctor D."

"Whatever," Lovino said dismissively. "Let's just go get rid of the fucking envelope and get out of here."

Everyone agreed. They headed to Ludwig's office with alacrity.

…

"Ve! Oh, we heard you were going to bring us something, but didn't know when. That was really fast! Isn't this fun, Ludwig? So many friends to see us again, ve."

"It is indeed quite reassuring to see you all prospering." Ludwig took the slim package and set it on a desk. "Excuse me just a moment, and I'll send Eduard a note telling him it got here safely." He turned away to his tablet.

"You two awesomely work together? That's cool."

"Not really, ve. I work for one of the office secretarial pools, running errands and things, but I often sneak over to see Ludwig." Feliciano beamed at the burly blond, whose face was contorted in concentration as he sent Von Bock a message.

Lovino was astonished. "Don't you get in trouble for that?"

"Ve, well, not really. Ludwig's father is one of the Resistance bigshots. I think he cuts us some slack, ve, but of course Ludwig is so attentive to his work that he makes up for all my goofing off." Feliciano gave them all a very bright smile.

Gilbert reached out and rumpled his hair. "Kind of tough, working with your parents, I'd think," he said to Ludwig, who simply grunted.

Lovino desperately wanted to get off the topic of parents. "So what exactly's going on around here, government-wise? We did hear a bit about the administrative districts, and I've been keeping up with the news feeds."

"Ve. Well, at least things are working out like we'd planned. So far. Lots of new people moving to Athens from all over the world, ve."

Ludwig glanced up from his tablet. "All clear," he told them. "Will you be staying long in Athens?"

All four of them waffled for a moment before Gilbert firmly said "No. We, ah, have other jobs to do. We awesomely need to get back to our ship, which is docked in Copenhagen."

"I'd love to see your ship someday, ve!"

"Someday," Gilbert laughed, ruffling Feliciano's hair again.

"Well, I would recommend you at least dine at one of the nicer establishments before leaving." Ludwig named a few.

"Cool." Mathias reached out his hand and shook Ludwig's. "You, ah, don't have any deliveries you need us to make, do you?" He laughed a little.

"Not at this time, but we'll –" The German interrupted himself as an older, slim man with longish blond hair came into the room. The bastard's father? Looked like it. "Ah. Good afternoon, sir," Ludwig offered.

The man eyed the four friends dubiously, and then raised an eyebrow at Feliciano, who giggled and scurried from the room without speaking. "Entertaining friends, Ludwig?"

"Sir, these are Resistance comrades of mine from Persephone. This is my father, Dietrich Weilschmidt."

Mathias chose not to introduce them at all, and simply replied, "Just here to drop off a package."

"Ah. From Ms. Mancham? Thank you." The older man nodded.

Lovino elbowed Mathias, who rose. "Well, thanks, Ludwig; we'll check out one of those restaurants tonight. Good luck to you and Feliciano, and everyone else."

"Yes. Thank you again." Ludwig shook the hands of Mathias and Gilbert, and the friends escaped from under the stern eye of Dietrich Weilschmidt.

…

Outside the building all four of them sagged a little. "Dammit."

"No kidding. His father was terrifying! Just like the strictest teacher I ever had in the orphanage. Why didn't you introduce us?"

Mathias shrugged. "Well, you know, 'Lovino' is kind of an unusual name. If Ludwig's dad knew anything about his father, he might recognize the name. And then, if he knew about the king business, I didn't want to get into that with him. I just thought we should get out of there."

"Good thinking, bastard. Extremely sound thinking." Lovino grinned weakly in relief and leaned against Arthur.

"Weilschmidt, though," the Brit wondered. "Like Beilschmidt."

Gilbert shook his head. "No. There are a ton of names like that. Pfeilschmidt, stuff like that." But he narrowed his eyes, thinking. "I wonder. Do you think Ludwig's dad could be the head of the Resistance?"

Nobody could really offer an opinion on this. "We need more data, dammit."

"We need _dinner_. Come on, boys." Mathias grabbed Gilbert by the strap of his shoulder bag, and they discussed the mysterious head of the Resistance all the way to the restaurant, reaching no satisfactory conclusions.

…

After the meal Lovino jostled Gilbert's arm. "Don't you want to look for a fucking spoon while we're here? Or are you only getting them from offworld domes?"

"Ooh. No, that's a great idea. I'd totally forgotten. Let's see if there's some kind of place around here that might have them."

"You need to get one in Copenhagen, too, don't you, git? You didn't pick one up while we were there."

Gilbert grinned archly. "Aha, no, my awesome friend. I didn't, but I'm going to wait. I'm positive there will be souvenir King Tino and Queen Berwald coronation spoons. I want one of those."

Everyone laughed at this. "Maybe you could get them to autograph the spoon box," Mathias joked.

"What a great idea! You're so smart." Then the albino turned serious. "Now, what are we going to do now? Souvenirs, and then hoverlimo back to Copenhagen?"

"What? Bastard, I really think we need to take mass transit. We need to save money!"

Arthur scowled. "We're not _that_ desperate. You heard that number Gilbert told us in the hoverlimo."

"Yes, fine! I just want to save money when we can. We're not in any kind of goddamn rush to go anywhere, so we might as well take mass transit."

Gilbert stopped walking, balancing his tablet on top of a trash can, and looked up the rates for the trip. "Well, ah, you might not want to hear this," he eventually admitted.

"What? It's pricier than the bloody hoverlimo?"

"Well, there's no more transit leaving tonight. Not in that direction. So we'd need to spend the money on a hotel for tonight, too. And then, for transit, we have to buy four separate tickets, but only one hoverlimo…and the trip would take three times as long because of all the stops. So, just get over it, Romano, and we'll get another hoverlimo and go back now."

Everyone stared at Gilbert. "R-romano? What the fuck's that?"

"Hey, I told you that you should have an awesome nickname. 'Romano' means 'a man of Rome,' and that's what you are, right? It was either that or call you 'Italy,' which sounded really stupid."

Mathias punched the albino. "So, it's okay for you to call me 'Denmark' but not okay to call him 'Italy'?"

"Romano," Lovino muttered under his breath, considering it.

The others ignored him and started walking again; he scurried to follow. "Kesesese! 'Denmark' suits you! It's a cool word, plus it goes with the king thing. 'Italy' just sounds like some dumb 'we couldn't come up with a better nickname' thing." Gilbert snorted.

"R-r-r-r-omano!" Arthur flourished this, rolling his R dramatically. "Hmm. What do you think?" he asked Lovino.

Mathias punched Arthur, this time. "Why are you asking him? Nobody asked me if I wanted to be damn Doctor Denmark!"

"_Do_ you want to be damn Doctor Denmark?" Lovino asked him seriously, momentarily diverted from considering his own new possible nickname.

"Hah! Triple D!"

"Shut up, albino bastard, and let him answer."

"I – uh – well," the Dane laughed, scratching his spiky hair, "I actually don't care all that much. I was just trying to be argumentative."

Gilbert hugged him. "So, yes to Doctor Denmark? Yes to Romano?"

"Doctor Denmark is stupid, though. I don't care if you want to call me plain old Denmark, but please, not Doctor Denmark, unless you're going to call him Captain Romano."

"'Captain Romano' is bloody ridiculous."

"Romano," Lovino said again, musing. "It has an interesting ring, bastard."

"Going to be tough to get used to. But it's a good name," Arthur told the albino. "Smart thinking."

"Hey, I _am_ the genius around here, you know! Kesesese!"

"Hah! Gilbert the Genius German. Triple G."

"Shut up." He scowled at Mathias but then laughed again, waving his tablet around. "There. While you were all goofing off I made arrangements for the hoverlimo back to Copenhagen. Let's get my spoon and hit the skies."

"That okay with you, _Romano_?" Arthur grinned.

"Yeah, it's fine," he sighed. What the hell. Romano was as good an alias as anything else.

…

_Ludwig's father is, of course, the stern Germania._


	37. Jupiter: Voyager Dome

_Sorry. That rock in the box to Ms. Mancham was just something to weight the box. I don't even know why I put it in there._

_Good point about the heir apparent. I hadn't considered all that in depth, in too much of a real world scenario; it was just supposed to be a fun way to tie up all the "mysterious Tino behavior." I'll have to think about that._

…

**Jupiter: Voyager Dome.**

"All secure," Arthur called out loudly, after closing the ship's door and securing it. The ship had an intercom but he always forgot to use it.

From the intercom he heard Mathias' response of "All clear," and he headed towards the bridge. The ship had been completely restocked – including a barrage of kitchen implements, all Gilbert's tools and toys for building his beep device, new pens and notebooks for Lovino, and some other miscellaneous things.

Arthur was still kind of irritated because he hadn't been able to think of some project or hobby for himself. Mathias had decided to study fancy martial arts, just to keep fit and in case they needed to fight somewhere. Well, that sounded like fun, and Arthur might join him for his visual lessons in the break room, but it wasn't enough. What could he do? About the only thing he was really good at was chemistry.

He reached the bridge, where the newly-christened Romano sat in the captain's chair. "Cleared for takeoff," Gilbert announced, eyes on the panel.

"Fine, go." Lovino (no, _Romano_) flapped his hand.

Arthur was still having trouble with that nickname, obviously, but the more he thought about it the more sensible it seemed. Since his friend's father was still on the loose, and presumably still had some kind of Resistance contract on his head, any references to "Lovino Vargas" could end up being rather dangerous. For right now, the Brit would focus on using "Romano," all the time, just to make sure he wouldn't slip up somewhere.

By the time he broke out of these thoughts the ship was halfway into orbit. Mathias had asked whether they could head for Jupiter again, to see some different dome. A few minutes' research had turned up a small one far away from Russia Dome, originally built by a business consortium and later turned into a basic Earth outpost. It was allegedly a peaceful tourist place; its name was Voyager Dome. Five minutes later the travel plans had been agreed upon.

It was a very good thing they were all such good friends, and in such harmony with each other, Arthur considered. Saved a lot of bickering about junk like that. He chuckled as he crossed to his station.

"What are you laughing about, moron?"

"Just thinking how nice it is we don't fight with each other much."

Gilbert turned from the console. "I'll say! Man, what a waste of time that would be."

"Let me make sure we're on course," Arthur then said. He focused on the controls while Gilbert and Romano discussed the likelihood of the four of them getting into fights.

He felt very confident in his navigation skills now. He'd need to take his Level II exam one of these days – he'd been putting it off during all this bloody planet-hopping and socializing and rescuing underprivileged teens – but it needed to be done. He'd ask Lo-_Romano_ to proctor him tomorrow. Yes. Too much wasting time was bad for his long-term memory.

…

He felt quite confident as Romano monitored him during the testing. Arthur was much too engrossed to bother with any flirting or friendly chat, which was good; Romano was supposed to focus just as much as he was. The blond answered all the questions carefully and logically, and at the end it seemed like he might have missed one or two, no big deal. He set the stylus down after checking the final question; Romano keyed in his supervisor code to close the process, and the computer began analyzing Arthur's work.

Tomorrow they were due to dock at Voyager Dome. When he passed this level, he'd be qualified to train people for their own Level I, though he didn't want to get involved in something like that. No, he just felt a burning need to master navigation in all its forms, to prove that he was a useful member of the team. He and Romano began to chat to each other about the test as the quiet beeps of the system graded his work.

"How did it feel?"

"Eh. Not bad. I felt pretty confident, but I'm still a little worried. It's a while since I really studied."

"Well, come down to the break room and I'll make you some tea." Romano smiled at him – a very nice smile, rare for his friend, and he smiled back.

"How long until the results are done?"

"Maybe an hour. It was shorter last time, but the test was shorter too." Together the friends headed toward the break room.

"I'm glad Gilbert's competent and willing. I don't feel like we're risking much, having him at the helm."

"We'll be all right, idiot."

They sat quietly together, discussing the test and results, and shortly the system panel in the break room began to beep. "Results are done already?" Arthur held his breath. It hadn't been anywhere near an hour!

"Calm down." Romano keyed in his supervisor code again and the computer screen showed him a readout.

Even from where Arthur sat he could see the big "72%" on the screen. Seventy-two percent was passing, but only just. He cradled his head in his hands, too embarrassed to meet Romano's eyes. Seventy-two percent! How the bloody hell had he done so poorly? Now Romano would think –

He felt his friend embracing him from behind, felt the warm cheek pillow on his hair. "Don't worry. You passed."

"Barely." He was too distraught to even lean back.

"Don't _worry_! You passed your level two, so now you can study more and do better on level three. Right?" Romano gave him a little squeeze.

"I suppose," he sighed. Then he felt a little kiss on his ear and relaxed a bit. It wasn't the end of the world. And – and at least he _had_ passed. If he'd failed he would feel like even more of an idiot.

"Do you want to tell those bastards, or keep it a secret?"

"Eh, I'll tell them. Maybe it'll help me take the next level a bit more seriously."

Romano drew back and sat in the chair next to him. "You know, I never tell you anything like this, but I'm ridiculously proud of you." Arthur felt a blush mounting as his friend continued speaking. "You chose a job that you knew we needed, and you're focusing on it and taking it very seriously! I'm so proud of you." He reached out and clasped Arthur's hand.

He grinned and blinked a few times. "Thanks. I'll do better next time. I have to keep making you proud, you know."

"Stupid."

"Git."

Romano snorted. "Let's get back up to the bridge."

…

Voyager Dome had a dock, thankfully, and one of the things that struck the four friends immediately was the wealth of vegetation. It had so many trees and plants growing that it strongly resembled Earth! No, it was even lusher than Earth, Arthur realized. At least more lush than anyplace he'd seen, other than the private homes where he'd done the landscaping that summer. How long ago that all seemed.

"Wow," Gilbert said in amazement, gaping. "It's like a jungle!"

"Idiot. It's just a bunch of plants."

"Beautiful, though," the albino went on, and Arthur nodded his agreement. No wonder this place was such a tourist trap. He wondered why more people didn't want to live here. It already felt peaceful to him.

"You don't like it?"

Perhaps the fact that Arthur had asked that question, rather than one of the others, caused Romano to stop and think, instead of snapping out a nasty answer. "It's pretty, I'll admit." But that was all he said. Everyone grinned and headed out to explore the dome. This time they'd be sleeping on the ship, to save money, instead of getting hotel rooms. After their extended traveling on Earth, they'd all been quite happy to stay in one place this time, so they were unencumbered with overnight bags. Gilbert carried the messenger bag with his tablet and other goodies in it; Arthur a slim pouch with his own tablet.

"What should we do first?"

"Let's just wander." Mathias too seemed a bit dazed by all the greenery. "Do you think these are all real? Maybe they're fake?"

"If they were real, they'd help with the oxygen supply, I think." Arthur couldn't be sure of this. Maybe in a dome without true sunlight, photosynthesis wouldn't actually take place? He didn't know.

"But it would take a lot of water to keep them all this healthy."

Romano laughed. "Maybe it's only like this near the dock, to welcome people. Maybe there aren't any other big planty areas or parks."

"Kesesese! Guess we'll find out. Come on."

They moved off down the wide sidewalk, stopping to peer into shop windows, admire the views, get cool fruity drinks. "This is the life," Mathias had to admit. "This is the nicest dome we've been to." Colorful, with friendly inhabitants, it was very inviting.

"I wonder why other damn domes don't go to this effort. I mean, the fucking dome at Jones is the bleakest, most prison kind of atmosphere – "

"But Jones was a criminal establishment. Why would they pretty it up?" Arthur poked him.

"It wasn't built as one, though." Romano told them all about the history of the Jones dome, how it had been built by a private mining company.

"Huh. I never knew that. Maybe they didn't have the awesome technology to do a lot of plants back then."

"Pfft. Voyager Dome is older than Jones Dome, Gilbert. I looked it up." Mathias playfully shoved his friend.

"Well? I don't know. Maybe they were just cheap bastards who didn't want to pay to make it look nice."

"Maybe it used to look nice," Arthur thought, "until the company sold it to the Government. I can see the Government wouldn't spend a lot on beautification." He fingered the broad leaves of a small tree in a pot by the side of the road. "You know what I'd like to do? Go loaf around a park somewhere. Get a picnic and just go lay around. Even the artificial sunlight is better here."

All of them craned their necks to the underside of the dome, where the thin web of sun replicators stretched invisibly. "Nah. Doesn't look any different from any other sunlight," Gilbert decided. "But a picnic would be nice. Lying in the grass…we don't have a lot of parks left in Berlin, and then Jones was shit for that, as you all know. So I haven't had a chance to do that much."

Arthur explained about his old landscaping job. "Some of those blokes had _bloody_ nice properties. Like a little oasis in the city. But that's freakishly expensive."

"I wonder how many of them were Government." Romano was thoughtful. "To have big properties like that. But, whatever. Sure, let's get a picnic and loaf around. Maybe we'll have some inspiration."

…

The picnic was delicious and very restful. Romano fell asleep almost immediately after eating, one arm thrown over his eyes to shade them from the light. The other three sat or lay conversing in low tones so they wouldn't disturb him. "We should find a tourist kiosk and see what we want to do while we're here."

"We will. If they're going to start making those, uh, information places, you know, that Romano talked about from the news feed? Maybe they've already got someplace set up for that. We should look." Gilbert ate the last piece of cherry pie. "Man, this dome is like the Garden of Eden. Trees, sunlight, pie…"

"Beer," Mathias laughed, finishing his beer.

"Whatever it is, it's bloody nice. I really like this. That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you two, though. Did you ever think about what you wanted to do with your life? I mean, when you were kids, or whatever, before you went to Jones. What kind of job?" Arthur was still thinking about the landscaping.

Gilbert shook his head. "Not really. I knew what I was doing wasn't something I could get away with forever, and also, it would have been pretty boring after a while. I was already getting bored with it when they caught me. But I'm pretty happy now. If I can get my beep thing developed, it really will make us a mint, and it will be useful, and then we could go build our own dome somewhere, and plant it with things like this, and relax."

"Our own dome? Wow. That'd be amazing. You dream big."

"Kesesese! If you don't have dreams, you have nightmares, Artie."

"Hah." He turned to Mathias. "But what about you? I know you never thought about being a ruddy _king_."

"Are you kidding me? I was about the worst student in my entire school, growing up. Everybody always thought of me as this big dumb ox, and I guess I kind of fell into being that way. I didn't push myself very hard. Got in a lot of fights and shit. But what I mean is, I never even thought about kings or whatever. Maybe we were all too young. When you're a kid you don't think about that unless it's on some stupid test, and those history tests were all bullshit. You know?"

"You can learn from history, though," Gilbert pointed out. "Maybe it's not much help for us as individuals but I bet the Resistance got a lot of ideas from old resistance movements in history."

"I wonder if we ever will find out who started it all."

"Does it really matter?" Arthur yawned; watching Romano sleep was making him a little tired. "There was a Resistance, they overthrew the Government, and now they're the small-G government. What else do we need to know?"

"It'd be awesome to find out who it was! It was, and still apparently is, a very closely-guarded secret. I want to know just because I want to find out. Solve the mystery."

"Didn't you ever try looking things up? I know Von Bock said he tried to trace things and failed, but you're better than he is, sweetie." Mathias rumpled the white hair, and Arthur gagged theatrically, laughing.

"I didn't think of it at the time," Gilbert admitted, somewhat sheepishly for him. "I was worried about these guys, and how to behave on Persephone and all that."

"Maybe you could find something out now? Look in the recent archives. If you go back and start looking through government communications, maybe you could find some person who showed up in a lot of mails, or someone that you could trace orders back to. Shouldn't be too bloody difficult for you."

Romano murmured in his sleep a little and rolled over. They all held their breath, afraid they'd awakened him, but he started snoring, so they let him sleep and got back to the discussion.

"I could. Maybe I'll do that tonight."

Arthur yawned again.

"Why don't you take a nap? Gilbert and I can watch over you and Romano."

"Hah. If I sleep now I won't be able to fall asleep tonight."

"Oi!" they heard in the distance. "Hey!"

They turned, surprised, to see the South American gits; the blond was rushing towards them, and Manuel slouched along behind him with his habitual irritated expression. "Shit," Arthur spat; his friends nodded. "Don't wake Lovino, if we can help it. Romano," he corrected himself. "We don't want to let him get in a fight."

The three of them got up and walked towards their two former classmates, to be out of Romano's hearing. "Oh, man! Is that Vargas?" Martín pointed.

"What do you want, wanker?"

"Spotlight! Wow, am I glad to see you. You were the one who made it, weren't you?" he asked Gilbert, whose eyes widened before he burst into laughter.

"Sorry, what? What are you talking about?"

Very clever, Arthur thought. He tried to keep a neutral expression.

By now Manuel had caught up but stayed well out of reach of Mathias. He nodded in greeting.

Martín jittered in place. "Spotlight! You know!" He appealed to the Dane. "_You_ certainly know. The drugs he used to sell. Man, we tried getting stuff from that Doctor Lars, but his shit was lame, and he's gone anyway. I need the good stuff. I haven't had a good high in months."

_Blast,_ Arthur thought. Days like today he wished he'd never even thought of the stuff.

"Yeah, I know what stuff you mean." Mathias loomed a little over the slighter Argentinean. "Don't know where he used to get it, though."

"Don't be an idiot," Manuel muttered from the safety of his position. "You _must_ know. Somebody must know!" He turned to Arthur. "Do _you_ know?"

"Sorry, mate." He deemed it wiser not to say anything else. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Martín laughed. "Seriously? Had to get away from those uptight bastards on Persephone. Trying to tell us what to do with our lives."

"How'd you end up here, though?"

"Picked it off a map, didn't we? Sounded like a good place. I'm still drawing my allowance from my dad, so we bought our own pod and came here. We're sitting pretty, except I need something."

"It's not –" Arthur interrupted himself in the nick of time. _It's not addictive_, he'd been planning to say, but that would obviously let them know who had made it. He settled for the hectoring "It's not good for you, you realize. No drugs are."

"Pfft. Don't you start on us."

"Why do you like them so much?" Arthur asked, another smokescreen question.

"What the fuck else is there that's worthwhile, English? Life's such a bitch. It's nice to escape to the beautiful world in my head." Martín made a gesture with fluttering fingers, like butterflies dancing around.

"Kind of insulting to Manuel, isn't it, git?"

_"What?"_ The two newcomers glared at Arthur, but Gilbert and Mathias both began to grin.

"You know what I mean. You're so bloody unhappy with him, you need to escape?"

"That's not it at all!" Manuel turned to Martín with a shocked expression. "That's not it, is it?" Martín didn't immediately answer, but jumped on Arthur with a murderous look and a growl.

Mathias jumped away, Arthur saw, but Gilbert loved to fight. "Woohoo!" he yelled, beginning to hit Manuel.

Arthur fought Martín as best he could, but the bloke was a bloody demon! Where the hell was damn Doctor Denmark? Why didn't he interfere? He looked up and saw the Dane standing off to the side grinning at them all. "Tosser," he muttered, but he wasn't even sure if he meant Martín or Mathias. He concentrated on pummeling the git, but Martín pinned him to the ground and began throttling him, cursing under his breath in Spanish.

He struggled but couldn't call out – this was serious trouble – and then felt the weight of the Argentinean lift off him; Mathias had grabbed him around the waist and yanked him away. Arthur fell back on the soft green grass, gasping.

"You boys are too argumentative," the Dane said, shaking Martín bodily and throwing him towards Manuel; he stumbled. "Stop it."

Gilbert had been on his hands and knees; his nose was bleeding all over the grass. "Fuckwits."

Arthur sat up. "Get away from us, wankers," he wheezed, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt.

"Fine, _maricones,_" Manuel spat, grabbing Martín's arm and dragging him away_. _"Go fuck yourselves!" he shouted, when they were almost out of earshot.

"Bloody bastards! Now I see why Lo-_Romano_ dislikes them so much." Arthur had to say this in a whisper because his throat still hurt.

"Yeah, they're idiots. You okay, Arthur?"

The Brit nodded, feeling his throat. He would be, once he caught his breath. "I think so," he managed.

The friends limped back and sat next to the remains of lunch. Gilbert began to wipe the blood from his face with a picnic napkin. Dr. Denmark leaned over to examine his nose, to make sure it wasn't broken, and Arthur gingerly felt his own throat. It was tender, but at least he could breathe properly now. He cleared his throat a few times. Yes, he'd be all right. Those stupid _wankers_. Why couldn't Martín get by without chasing down drugs all the time?

And Arthur also sadly wondered if it was his fault that Martín wanted the drugs so badly. He sighed. He'd done a bad thing, bringing Spotlight to Jones. He knew it. Well, they all knew it, now. But it was too late to change anything; he knew that too.

Mathias had some blood on his shirt – hopefully blasted Martín's, or maybe Gilbert's – but otherwise was unharmed. "Oh," Gilbert moaned, as Dr. Denmark prodded his nose. "Those stupid _fuckwits!_"

Romano woke up at that and glared at them all. "What the hell have you bastards been doing?" he yelled, and they began to laugh and laugh before telling him just what kind of excitement he'd missed.

…

Later, at dinner, Gilbert checked his messages. "Hey, somebody has a job request. Pick up a shipment of electrical supplies at Cassini Dome and take it to – kesesese! – Jones!" He danced in his chair. "I'm gonna win the bet, I'm gonna win the _bet~!_"

"Fuck," Romano swore, but then grabbed the tablet. "Where the fuck's Cassini Dome?"

"Saturn. Awesome! New dome we've never been to. Want to take the job?" He took the tablet back.

"Well, this sucks." Mathias drank some beer. "If we have to go do a job we can't hang around here much longer."

"Do we really have to do it, bastards?"

"Might as well. But then, we won't get to spend a lot of time investigating bloody Cassini Dome, either, you realize."

"I realize," the Dane said, still contemplating his beer. "But at least we could see if it was worth going back to. I'd say we'd all be willing to come back here, right?"

"I would. This dome is awesome."

"Everything's fucking awesome to you, you idiotic albino."

"Shut up, sourpuss." Mathias tweaked Romano's nose. "Are we going to take this job or not?"

"Take it," Arthur said wearily, mostly to forestall the argument. "We can come back here when we have some down time."

"And I'll be twenty percent closer to winning my bet," Gilbert added. "Come on, let's."

"Yeah, all right, idiot. Is it a rush job?"

Gilbert tapped a response to the company making the shipment before rereading their request. "Not critical – they want it delivered in the next two weeks. Do you want to leave tomorrow morning and get it over with?"

"Yes, let's do that, dammit. Maybe we can come back here afterwards."

"Cool!"

"Let me try that beer," Arthur said, grabbing the glass from Mathias. Under the amazed eyes of all, he sniffed it, then sipped, then took a nice deep draught, emptying the glass. "Okay. Thanks."

Mathias peered into the empty glass. "Well, damn!"

"Kesesese! Calm down, Den. Artie will buy you a new beer."

"Like hell. Buy your own beer." But Arthur's mind was already elsewhere, and he was fairly vacant for the rest of the evening.

…

"You've got some dumb idea, don't you?"

"Maybe not a dumb idea," Arthur answered absently, preparing for bed. "Just let me think it over."

"Yes, all right, all right. Dammit, I wish we didn't have to go back to fucking Jones again!"

"Because you hate the place? Or because Gilbert's going to win the bet?"

"Dammit."

They slipped into the bed together. "At least we had a really nice day. And you got to have a little nap out in the park."

"I still can't believe those bastards were here. Can't believe you fought them, either." He reached out and ran his fingers lightly across Arthur's still-sore throat.

"Martín is an arse."

"They both are." Lovino drew him close. "Now, come on, loverboy, forget about those stupid bastards. New rule. Here in our bed, the only men we talk about are you and me." He leaned close and rubbed his lips against Arthur's sweetly, and Arthur, feeling warmth and desire, forgot all about those bloody South Americans and everyone else, too.

…

In the morning they went out into the town to pick up a few things before heading to Cassini Dome, and found Martín and Manuel loafing around at the edge of the dock. "Now what?" Arthur muttered, gearing up for another fight.

But the two South Americans were strangely subdued. "Eh, English, let me talk to you."

Arthur met Romano's eyes and shrugged, beginning to walk away. "We've got your back," Gilbert whispered, very quietly.

Martín drew Arthur about twenty paces away and turned so the others couldn't see his face. "Listen, you're a stupid _bastardo_, like all English, but I – I needed to thank you for saying that yesterday." He blew out a breath. "Manu is much more important to me than Spotlight or any high."

Arthur was relieved, but still wary. "Er – well – all right? Is that it?"

"Yes, that's it! What do you want, a fucking kiss on the cheek? Stupid English bastard!"

Then Martín held out his hand. It was clear to Arthur that he didn't want to do it. He glanced back at his friends, who were all either scowling at Manuel or watching Arthur carefully; Romano shrugged.

"Don't be an ass! Just shake so Manu and I can get the hell out of here."

"Fine, git." Arthur took the hand and shook it once, perfunctorily, and Martín yanked his hand away.

Together they slouched back to the group, each glaring off to the side. The Argentinean's final words – for Arthur's ears only – were "Now get out of this fucking dome, so we don't have to see you again."

"Git."

By then they'd rejoined their friends; Manuel took his friend's hand and nodded to the others, and they left without any further speech.

"Well?" Romano demanded, once they'd gotten far enough away. "What the fuck happened there?"

"Bloody wankers," Arthur said, with a little smile on his face.

…

All the way to Cassini Dome the blond was engrossed in reading things on his tablet. "Are you studying for Level three already?" Mathias asked. "Give it a rest. Trying to memorize too much too fast means you'll forget it all too quickly."

Arthur grunted.

"Bastard!" Romano walked over and flicked him in the back of the head. "What are you doing?"

"Er? Oh, nothing." He hid the face of the tablet against his chest. "Why? What's going on?"

"Kesesese! We've been placing bets on how long it'll take you to start acting normally again."

"Really?" He wrinkled his nose.

"Not really. Just wondering what the fuck's so all-important."

"Nothing." He powered off the tablet and put it away. He'd tell them later. _After_ his plan was in place.

…


	38. Saturn: Cassini Dome

**Saturn: Cassini Dome.**

"So where's this company?" Romano asked, as they exited the dock.

Gilbert read out the address. "Hang on and let me download the local map." He did this and they clustered around the tablet to find the way. "Not too far. About two kilometers. Walk or taxi?"

"Eh, let's walk it," Arthur suggested. "We can get a feel for the place. And if we have to bring crates of supplies back, we won't be able to explore on the way back."

"Good enough." Romano was a bit worried and made up his mind to keep an eye on the blond, who had been abstracted all the way here. He _did_ have some dumb idea. Romano could tell it wasn't some kind of problem, but he hadn't wanted to push for an explanation. He wished his friend would confide in him. Ah, well. Eventually he would.

As they walked, they discussed Cassini Dome; this one seemed much more family-friendly than any other one they'd been to. They saw children and parents playing in parks, passed two schools and many shops for children's toys and clothing. He'd never really thought about it, but now Romano was struck by the contrast with the other domes, which all (no matter how nice they were) seemed to cater to the adults. A dome like this was very well planned out, and he wondered whether people ever chose to live here simply because of the atmosphere. Or had the atmosphere sprung up from the residents choosing to make it this way? He also thought that maybe Roderich and Elizaveta would find this dome more hospitable than fucking Jones was.

As they walked, he thought about this; he thought about children. At first Romano's thoughts fluttered around his own childhood, and he worried about other children that might be brought up this way, sad and alone.

A comment from Mathias brought him out of his reverie momentarily, but then he settled back in, thinking about the children again. Obviously he'd never have children, now. This thought didn't distress him at all. In fact, it cheered him immensely, and he took Arthur's hand (very briefly) and squeezed it, getting surprised looks from all three of his friends. "What? What? I'm just happy right now, so stop giving me funny looks, dammit."

Arthur winked at him; Gilbert chuckled "kesesese," and Mathias ruffled his hair. Romano scowled, but let them.

But there were so many families around he couldn't get this idea of children completely out of his head. "What's going to happen with Tino?" he wondered aloud.

"What? What do you mean? The awesome coronation's in two months."

"No. I meant about heirs, dammit. Remember how they were so hot to get their hands on Mathias because he was the actual descendant of the actual king? And they said that if he had any sons they'd be the heirs. What about Tino and Mr. Oxenstierna?" He still couldn't make himself think of the maintenance man as "Berwald." "They obviously won't be able to have kids. What happens when they die? Is it back to you?" He looked at Mathias.

"_Fandens,_ I hope not. I really, really hope not. I don't want to have to go through all that, every time they need a king!"

"What does 'fandens' mean?" Gilbert wondered.

"'Damn it.' Ever since we were in Copenhagen I've been thinking in Danish a lot more, and it just slipped out. Sorry."

"Talk how you want, bastard. Just make sure we can understand the important stuff, like, 'Hey, the ship's on fire' or 'We're all out of beer.' Pfft."

"Kesesese! If we're all out of beer you'd better _yell_, and fast."

"Idiot." Romano elbowed him.

"_I drenge er alt for larmende._" Mathias began laughing.

"What? What?" Romano's irritation escalated.

"Here's the place," interrupted Arthur, having ignored the entire preceding discussion.

UKC Corporation was a plain, businessy building, two stories, not very big, with a white bear as their logo. "I wonder what they do, and why they're sending goodies to Jones."

The receptionist took their names. "Ah. Yes, Mr. Williams has been expecting you." She used the building's intercom while they drew away.

"Who?"

"Seems to me I know that name from somewhere." Romano couldn't remember.

But then Matthew Williams, who had rescued him and Arthur from Jones, entered the lobby, and he remembered. "Good morning, gentlemen," the shy blond greeted them.

"Hi! You own this business? Cool." Gilbert shook his hand and beamed.

Matthew finished shaking everyone's hand. "Yes. My wife and I own UKC. Come to my office. We can talk for a while, and then I'll take you to the loading dock to pick up the shipment."

He led them to his office; Romano tried to figure out who his wife might be. Not that bitch Natalia, he figured. He hoped. But he couldn't think of anyone else. Well, maybe it was someone Williams had met during his travels, not someone from Persephone.

No. Seated behind a large desk in an office was that bouncy waitress from Persephone's lunchroom. Kathy? Kelly? "Katia, you remember our friends?" Williams asked her.

"Of course!" She stood up and smiled weakly at them, and they each shook her hand as well.

"So you two are awesomely married? Why didn't we know that?" Nosy Gilbert plopped right down into a chair.

"Please sit." Williams gestured to the other chairs and everyone else sat. "We didn't like to flaunt it," he explained. "Almost everyone on Persephone was focused on the Resistance, the overthrow; both Katia and I felt we might not be taken seriously as Resistance members if they'd known we were involved in something as – as frivolous as romance."

"Romance isn't frivolous," Mathias offered, but Katia shook her head.

"I know what he means. They would have felt we were focusing on the wrong thing. It simply seemed smarter to keep a lid on it." She smiled again. "It was kind of fun, sneaking around keeping it a secret, but kind of sad that we had to do that."

"Ah, the sad times are over now." Williams beamed at her, making her blush.

"So tell us about this company." Arthur, who had been friendlier with Williams than any of the others had, asked this question. "Why are you shipping things to Jones?"

"They need the upgrades. Jones Academy has been laboring under old technology for a long time, and we're supplying them with the new things they'll need."

"UKC is a clearinghouse for that sort of thing," added Katia. "With our connections, we're easily able to source supplies and send them to the places that need them the most."

"That's pretty noble of you."

"We don't do it for free!" Katia's giggle was infectious, and even Romano felt himself grinning. "In the case of Jones, some of your former classmates have contributed to the upgrades, and we do get some government subsidies for things, now."

"People are working awesomely hard to make the universe better, aren't they?"

"It's true, we hope." She raised her eyebrows to her husband, who nodded.

"I do apologize," he told them, "but we have a lot of work to do right now. Are you free for dinner? Will you join us at our home? We can talk more, then."

"Thank you. We'd be happy to." A free home-cooked meal was always welcome.

"Good. I want to talk to Mathias about the kingship!"

"Gods, not again," the Dane moaned, and Katia laughed her merry laugh once more.

"I just want to find out what they said, and that sort of thing. I won't discuss it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Thanks. I don't mind talking about it, I guess. It's going to be a while until everyone gets it out of their systems anyway."

Matthew sent directions to their home to Gilbert's tablet. "Now, if you'll come with me, I'll show you to our loading dock; we have the transport truck already loaded so you can take it all directly to the space dock."

They followed him down a series of corridors until he led them into a large room where a flatbed transport vehicle stood laden with a lot of big boxes. "Is this stuff fragile?" Gilbert wondered.

"Yes. Can any of you drive a transport like this?"

Romano and Mathias both shrugged. "We've driven Rovers before," the brunet said.

"Ah. The principle's the same. Just remember your vehicle is a lot longer than a Rover, harder to corner. Or I can spare an employee to drive it?"

"That might be better." Romano spoke slowly. "We don't want to waste your employee's time, but on the other hand we don't want to crash the fucking transport."

Williams blinked – apparently he'd forgotten about Romano's way of speaking – and then nodded. "Wait here." He crossed to an intercom and pressed a button.

"This is a surprise," muttered Gilbert, "but we'll get an awesome dinner out of it! That's cool."

"Wish we didn't have to talk about the stupid kingship."

"Eh. Just one night, it'll be over, git."

"It won't! You know it won't. Everywhere we go, somebody's going to ask me about it. Maybe I should have said yes." But Mathias fought a smirk and the others laughed.

Williams returned. "Leon will be with you shortly. We'll see you for dinner?"

"Thank you," Arthur told him, shaking his hand again. "We're looking forward to it."

…

The young man, Leon, was from a country historically known as Hong Kong, which was now part of Greater Asia. He didn't speak much other than basic introductions, but drove the loaded transport vehicle straight to the space dock. Gilbert rode with him in the cab, and the others sat on the flatbed for the ride. Then they all worked together to unload the boxes and put them in the Bunny's cargo hold.

"See you later," Leon said brusquely as they finished. He jumped into UKC's transport vehicle and drove off.

"Abrupt little wanker, isn't he?" Leon had seemed very snappish, for some reason.

Mathias thought that maybe he was some bigshot at the company who didn't like being tapped for grunt work.

"Maybe. But, whatever. We have all afternoon until we're due to meet them. Want to go explore?" Romano locked up the ship as they exited.

"Of course! And I want to think up some discreet questions to ask at dinner. Maybe they know who the head of the Resistance was. Kesesese!"

Arthur slung his little bag over his shoulder. "I might need to do some shopping."

Of course Romano knew this was something to do with his "not a dumb idea," and it looked like the other bastards had figured it out too. "That's okay with me, Artie." Gilbert patted him on the shoulder. "Just let us know."

"Okay."

They headed into the heart of the city, randomly chatting about things. Romano kept an eye on his friend, who was ignoring most of the discussion while he scanned storefronts. Mathias and Gilbert kept up a steady stream of talk about Cassini, work, the Resistance, and the upcoming trip to Jones.

"Well, bastard?" he asked, after they'd made it to the end of the main shopping street. "See what you need?"

"No." Arthur grunted. "Why don't you gits go off and have fun? I'll meet you at the ship at five, and then we'll have time to get to the Williams' by six."

Romano narrowed his eyes – why did Arthur insist on keeping secrets from him? – but when Mathias grabbed his arm, he went along with it. "Sure. You remember how to get back?"

"Yes, git. I remember." Arthur gave him a friendly shove and a smile. "See you later." He headed down a side street.

"I wish I knew what the fuck he's up to." They continued on in another direction.

"He didn't even tell _you_? Boy, Den and I thought it was something between the two of you. Do you have some kind of awesome anniversary coming up?"

"Stupid." But Romano thought about this. Maybe Gilbert was on the right track. "I, uh, I don't remember anything, but you might be right. I'm not exactly attentive to that kind of shit." Hah, he wouldn't even know what date to choose for their anniversary! The day they'd met? The day they'd become friends? The first time they'd –

"You should be more attentive! Next week it's a year since _we_ became friends," grinned Mathias. "Not that I'm keeping track." He hugged them both at the same time.

"Ow, dammit."

"You are just _so cute_." The albino reached up to pat the spiky blond hair. "You'll always be the king of my heart."

"Oh, my God," Romano groaned. "Shut the fuck up with all that sappy shit!"

Mathias laughed. "No kidding. Shut up about the king stuff too. Save it for when we're alone."

"Kesesese!"

The three of them wandered, and bickered, and stopped several times for coffee, mostly just killing time while they waited to meet Arthur at five. They visited an interesting pet shop, and Gilbert remembered to pick up a Cassini Dome spoon while they were out, too. He made them stop at a playground so he could swing on the swingset for a while; Mathias pushed him while he whooped with laughter, and Romano sat on a bench desperately pretending he wasn't with them.

At about three-thirty he decided he'd had enough. "Let's just go back to the ship now. I need a siesta."

"Really? Well, if you really need it," Mathias agreed, "we should go. Come on, Triple G."

"Stop that, King D. Let's go."

They approached the ship from a different street. "Stop," Romano hissed, elbowing Gilbert, and they all stopped.

Arthur, across the street, was wheeling the ship's hand cart (empty) along the street, away from the ship. "What's he doing?" Mathias whispered.

"Beats me. Hey, there's a park bench. Let's sit down and rest. Spy on him and see what awesome stuff he brings back."

"Good idea. And there's another coffee shop. I'm going to get another one; you bastards want any?"

"Sure. I love coffee almost as much as beer, now."

"Kesesese! Not me. Thanks for offering, though."

Romano headed to the coffee shop very quickly, so he could get back and see what Arthur was up to. It was really infuriating, how he kept it a secret!

Drinks in hand, he scurried back. "Anything new?"

"Nope. He hasn't been back. We – " But the Dane interrupted himself as they saw Arthur wheel the hand cart back towards the ship, this time loaded with boxes and what looked like a stack of plastic buckets. "Eh?"

"This is really weird, bastards."

The three friends sat almost dazed as the Brit made three more trips with mysterious things and boxes loaded on the hand cart. "This is – _beyond_ weird," Gilbert finally said, breaking an hour-long silence. "I'm dying to know."

"Well, it's almost five." Mathias checked his watch. "We can go intercept him, and find out. I can't imagine he'll try to keep it secret much longer. I can't even figure out where he's going to store it! The cargo hold is full of the shipment for Jones."

They got up and threw the empty coffee cups away before rushing, curious, to the ship.

…

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell us now, dammit!"

"Later!"

"Kesesese! Come on, Arthur, tell us now."

The blond sighed, scanning his piles of boxes and equipment packed into one of the spare bedrooms. His friends had sneaked onto the ship and trapped him in this room. "Fine. Don't laugh. I've decided to try to brew my own beer."

Instead of the derision he'd expected, Mathias picked him up and hugged him, while Gilbert danced around in circles in the hallway, yelling and whooping. "That's so cool! Can we have some?"

"You're a git, Gilbert. Of course you can! Do you think I'm doing this just so I can drink beer all the time?" He poked the Dane. "Set me down."

Mathias obliged. "But this is really cool. Why?"

"Eh, why not? I need something to do; making beer seems a lot like chemistry, which I'm good at, and we love beer, so if I can make something good, it'll save us some time, or money, or something." He scowled. "Just something to do, all right? But I'm not sure if I can really do it right. So don't pressure me."

Romano patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, bastard. We won't mention it again unless you do. Okay?"

"Yes, all right. Now, don't we have to leave soon?"

"_Scheisse!_ Yeah, come on, let's go!"

…

"Your business is doing well?" Williams asked delicately, after they'd gotten the kingship talk out of the way.

"As a matter of fact, it is. So many Persephone people seem to be hiring us. It's awesome."

Romano held his breath. He hoped the idiot albino wouldn't start talking about his stupid connect-the-dots solar system map. But he didn't.

"That's good," Katia smiled. "We think everyone should work to help each other. It's part of the new world that the Resistance worked so hard to create."

Williams agreed. "Instead of 'every man for himself,' we're trying to create more of a sense of community. Of course it's somewhat difficult when you consider that there are so many domes out here, many of which are several days' travel from Earth, but if the concept is good and people are willing to work for it – which they seem to be – then it should at least be better than it was under the old regime."

"I just hope you find that everyone _is_ actually working towards it," Romano pointed out. "Not trying to restore the old Government or whatever."

"I think very many people felt oppressed. I'm sure there are people dissatisfied with the new way, but we hope to win them over."

"It sounds too optimistic," Arthur put in, skeptical.

"Time will tell, I suppose."

Romano let his mind wander a little while the others talked, and he gazed around the room; this home was tastefully decorated with soft and comfortable furniture everywhere, bright colors on the walls. He wondered whether the Williamses had any children, and then considered that they would probably have trotted some kid out for introductions if they had.

He was gazing at Williams, still somewhat vacant, when Gilbert asked their hosts point-blank "Do you two know who the head of the Resistance was?"

And Romano saw a little look of shock cross Williams' face. Oh, it didn't last long, but the bastard definitely knew something. The Italian darted his eyes to Katia, who had picked up her wine glass and was serenely sipping from it; he wondered whether any of his friends had caught that fleeting expression of panic.

Williams forced a little laugh. "Everyone wants to claim leadership now," he said, continuing to chuckle. "Do you remember Natalia? Katia's sister?"

"Natalia is your _sister_?" Romano blurted out.

Katia laughed aloud. "Yes. We're not close," she admitted. "But she's trying to claim responsibility for the entire Resistance movement."

"I thought the awesome Resistance had been in place for something like fifteen years! She'd have been, what, seven?" Everyone around the table laughed at this.

"She's deluding herself." Katia rose to serve the dessert. "Even if she'd been old enough to do it, she doesn't have the subtlety to – "

Williams cleared his throat. "Do you need help in the kitchen?" he interrupted, rising.

"What? Oh. No, that's all right. I've got it under control." She picked up some of the empty serving dishes to take back into the kitchen area, but Williams took the remainder and followed her in a hurry.

"What's with him?" Arthur whispered.

Romano leaned forward so their other friends could hear. "Drop the subject of the fucking Resistance, okay?"

"Sure thing, Cap. Why?"

"Stop calling me 'Cap,' you idiot. I'll tell you later."

"Kesesese! Okay. Sorry."

The host and hostess came back into the dining area, Williams carrying a cake plate and Katia the plates and forks. The four friends all tried to look as if the Resistance were the furthest topic from their minds.

"So," Williams said, once the dessert had been served. "Did you know that the Jones Academy and its dome are actually up for sale?"

Romano nearly choked on his cake. "What?"

"Yes. Because the new government is no longer using it for a juvenile detention center, they're going to sell the place to the highest bidder. Is that where your business is based?" Williams sipped coffee.

"Well, yeah," Gilbert told him. "Because it was the only place I had a real address for, when we incorporated. None of us had lived on Earth for a while." He scratched his head. "Fuck."

No kidding. Romano's mind was already in a panic. What the hell might change if a private owner bought the damn place?

"How does that even work?" asked Mathias.

The shy blond launched into a detailed and boring talk about sealed bids, undercutting, proof of sustainability, market share, and a whole bunch of other shit that Romano didn't understand and didn't care to. No, his mind was busy, busy, trying to think of a better place to move their home base to. Rhea? That was a tax haven, after all. Dammit, he didn't even like Jones, and Gilbert was right; the sole reason they'd picked it was because it was the only location where they'd known the physical address. Shit.

"So I'd recommend you hang tight and wait for the new owners to be announced. They may make some decisions about the place that affect your business," Williams concluded. "Could be good, could be bad."

"Good idea." Mathias pushed his cake plate away. "This was a delicious meal. Thank you."

"Katia is an excellent cook."

She blushed and nudged her husband. "Please, Matthew!"

"No, wait a second." Romano drummed his fingers on the tabletop, caught Arthur's smirk, and stopped. "If a private company's buying the damn dome, why are you sending these supplies? Why not let the new buyer do the upgrades?"

Williams cleared his throat. "Ah, well, you know, Sadik lives there, and he's a good friend of Katia's. We both disliked the idea of him trying to do his work in those antiquated conditions. And now that Leon is going to work there, he's not trained on the old systems, so they have to be upgraded."

"Leon's going to Jones?"

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry, I did want to discuss this with you. Leon is going to be the new maintenance man, since Berwald has a – a higher calling." Everyone laughed a little. "Does your ship have room for passengers? Could you take Leon to Jones with the shipment? We were going to hire a pod for him, but if you have the space on your ship, it would certainly be easier."

"We have plenty of space, but we were going to leave first thing in the morning! Can he be ready by then?" Dammit. That's all they needed, that surly bastard with them all the way to Jones.

"Allow me to notify him now." Williams stepped away from the table to send a note. "If not, then we'll send him by pod; that's fine."

Katia smiled weakly as they all watched her husband send the message.

By the time he'd returned to the table a response had come through. "He can be ready. What time do you want him to meet you at your ship?"

Everyone deferred to Romano, who rubbed a hand over his face and suggested, "Ten?"

"Ten?" Williams looked bewildered. "I thought you said 'first thing in the morning'!"

"Ten _is _'first thing in the morning,' for us. We're late sleepers," grinned Arthur sheepishly.

"Kesesese! _You_ are. Mathias and I are very early risers. But yeah. Ten is about our usual time for a morning departure."

"Very well. I'll notify Leon to meet you there with his things around ten."

"Er – will he have a lot of stuff? The cargo hold's nearly full, and some of the spare rooms are full, too."

Romano elbowed his friend. "We can manage, unless he's bringing a whole fucking houseload of furniture."

Katia laughed at this. "No. He won't be doing that. He'll be moving into Berwald's vacated quarters at the school."

"Then everything should be fine." Mathias took the lead, rising from his chair. "We should be going, if we have to get up so_ early_ tomorrow."

Everyone chuckled at this, even Romano, who didn't find it funny. He just wanted to get out of there. "Thanks again for the dinner."

"You're welcome. Stay safe, and thank you for doing this job for us."

"No problem."

…

Outside Romano took a deep breath and blew it all out noisily. "Dammit."

"What? I know you have something awesome to share with us."

"Back to the ship, bastards. I'll tell you there."

…

They had another meeting, huddled around the captain's chair, where Romano sat and talked about the little things he'd noticed during the dinner. "When you asked about the Resistance, he freaked out. Just for a second or two, but it definitely hit some kind of button."

"What about Katia? Did she react?"

Romano shook his head. "I didn't see. By the time I thought to look at her, she was pretty calm, but I wasn't looking at her right that second, so I really don't know."

"Well, fuck. You should have let me awesomely pry. I bet he knows, even if she doesn't, and I bet we could have found out."

Arthur disagreed. "Not from Williams. You weren't there; you didn't see how severe and Governmental he acted when he and Roderich came to the school for us. I think he'd probably be able to put you off the scent."

"But, but the point now is, stupid, we know that Williams knows. So maybe you can trace things from him? Trace some of these damn shipments of goodies the bastard talked about. Maybe the Resistance head is telling them where to send them. If you really want to know, I bet you could poke around behind the scenes and unearth some sat-mails."

"I definitely will. This really is a cool mystery! And you know what else? Maybe if he knows, Rod knows. Since they worked together so much."

"Sure! Approach it from that angle, too." Mathias nodded as he thought. "You could see if there's someone they both still communicate with a lot."

"Well? I'm going to bed," griped Arthur. "I'm tired, and I had to haul all that beer-making shite up here today while you gits loafed around and watched me. And we have to act polite with bloody Leon tomorrow and all the way to Jones. I need some rest."

"Go get some rest, dammit. I'll see you in a bit."

Arthur slouched off, and the Italian poked both his friends at the same time. "If his beer sucks, are you going to let him know?"

"Shit," Gilbert sighed, but Mathias shook his head.

"No sense in worrying about that until we taste it. Forget it. Want to play cards?"

"Sure, bastard, why the fuck not. Let's go down to the break room."

…

The next morning Leon showed up at 9:30; Gilbert and Mathias were heading back with some bags of breakfast goodies. "You're early," the albino said, not very pleasantly.

Leon grunted. "Where do I put my stuff?"

"Give us a minute, all right? Wait here." Mathias loomed over the Asian man, who backed away; the two friends hurried into the ship.

Arthur was awake and bumbling around a little, as he was apt to do in the mornings, but Romano was still asleep. "Leon's here," Gilbert told the Brit, poking his head into the lunchroom, where Arthur was trying to find a teabag.

"Eh? Oh. All right. Let me go wake Lovino. Romano."

"Yeah. I'll get Doctor D to do babysitter duty."

Soon Romano was awake, espresso in hand; Leon had been shown to his quarters, and hadn't come out. "Let's get the fuck out of here. The sooner we get to damn Jones and dump – the – the stuff, the sooner we can go back to Voyager Dome, or wherever we want."

Everyone nodded, and the Bunny left Cassini Dome.

…

"_I drenge er alt for larmende"_ _means "You little boys are all too noisy." Many thanks to Forever-Awesome94 for the Danish consultations!_

_Also, the wiki says that Hong Kong has several names, one of which is "Leon." He has two different Asian names, each of which is three names long, and I don't understand which one would be his first name. So, I went with Leon. Of course, having such a bad relationship with England in canon means he's not going to be very friendly with any of these boys._

_And yes, UKC is a fairly lame company name based on "UKraine Canada," with Kumajiro as their logo. Sorry._

_Thanks to all of you who read and enjoy my stories, and for all the reviews, too!_


	39. Back to Jones

**Back to Jones.**

Arthur tried to kick Mathias in the face, but the Dane grabbed his ankle as it swung and lifted it higher, shifting him off balance; as he fell, his head banged on the textured steel floor of the lunchroom. "Ohh…"

But Mathias bent down in a hurry. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Are you all right?" He knelt down and helped the Brit into a sitting position.

Arthur raised a hand to the back of his head. "Bloody hell. Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore. Is it bleeding?"

Doctor Denmark checked the area that was already beginning to swell up. "No. Maybe you're right, though. Still. You're getting pretty quick with those roundhouse kicks."

"Pfft. I may be quick but you're still a lot stronger than I am." He rubbed his head again. "Let's quit for today."

"Fine by me. Want anything to drink? And I'll get an ice pack for your head."

"Eh, just some water. Let's go see what the other gits are up to."

Mathias poured him a drink of water and they headed to the bridge, Arthur holding the ice pack against his aching head.

Leon hadn't come out of his quarters at all on this trip. Presumably he'd brought snacks and things to tide him over. (Gilbert, in a maudlin moment, had even wondered whether the new maintenance man might have died in the cabin, leaving them with a dead body to account for, and then Lovino had punched him in the nose for that. The ice packs were getting a lot of use.)

In a few hours they'd reach their destination. As the two sparring partners reached the bridge, they heard an explosive "Dammit!"

"Wow. What's the matter with you, git?"

"Jones doesn't have a dock," Gilbert told them, somewhat unnecessarily.

"No shit. So what?"

"Idiots! So we either have to dock somewhere else and rent a goddamn transport to get all this shit to Jones, or else we have to stay in orbit and make about twenty trips in the fucking pod!" Romano's face was extremely red and angry. "This is the stupidest thing I ever heard of!" He pounded on the arm of his captain's chair.

"Maybe we should do our bit to help them out, and pay to have a dock built at Jones. Since we're going to have to come back four more times this year, kesesese."

Romano ignored that. "How can you be so damn frivolous about this? It's going to be a huge pain in the ass."

"Well, there's no sense crying about it, wanker. Just pick which one you want to do. You're the captain."

"Shut up about that."

"Hey." Mathias poked him. "You're the one who decided to be the captain. All three of us were willing to do it, you know. If you don't like it, turn it over to somebody else." He waggled his eyebrows; Gilbert struck a pose and buffed his nails on his shirt; Arthur just snorted.

"Forget it, bastard. Just forget it." Romano covered his face with his hand, apparently thinking, while the others grinned at him. "Fine," he eventually announced. "Head for Switzerland Dome. We'll rent a transport. Dammit, this is so stupid."

"We know, we know." Arthur patted his shoulder, but then put the ice pack back against the swelling.

"What happened to you?"

"Ah, nothing, really. Paying the price for studying martial arts with Mathias."

"Did he hurt you? Because, you know, the awesome thing is that with him being a doctor, if he hurts you then he can help make you feel better!"

"I know. He got me the bloody ice pack."

"Come here, bozo." Romano spun him in place and parted the blond hair gently; he ran his fingers over the swelling. "Not too bad." He softly rearranged Arthur's hair as best he could; Gilbert and Mathias stood amazed at this tiny public show of tenderness.

Arthur turned around once more; Romano was blushing furiously but smiling a little, too. "Thanks."

"Good. Now, let's get this damn ship to Switzerland Dome. And somebody had better go tell Leon. I'm sure he won't be happy about having to ride in a fucking transport with us all that way."

"I'll go." Gilbert leaped up from his chair. "Give me a minute. If you hear me screaming, he's definitely dead."

"Dammit!"

…

Romano had been right; Leon was not happy at all. In fact he was so unhappy that he had a private taxi company take him separately to Jones while the others arranged for transport of the supplies. "What an absolute wanker."

"Forget about him, bastard. Help load up the damn truck."

They all worked together to shift the supplies. "Who's driving?" asked Mathias.

"Either you or Romano. I never learned to drive."

"Let me! I bet it'd be awesomely fun to drive this massive thing all the way to Jones. Now that we don't have to sneak around in the dark, illegally, kesesese."

"Uh. Well, do you really think you can do it? I, ah, I don't mind letting you try, since once we get it out of the dome there's nothing to crash into." Romano rubbed his face.

"I'll drive," Mathias decided. "Since we have all this expensive stuff to deliver. You can drive the empty truck back, okay?" He patted Gilbert on the head like a little kid.

"All right! Let's go, brothers." The four of them got into the cab of the truck and Mathias gently navigated it to the airlock, where they passed through with no fuss.

"Wonder how things are over there. I guess Adnan's doing well."

Mathias chuckled a little. "Remember Williams said Katia and Adnan were friends? Do you suppose he meant…_friends_?"

"Kesesese! You mean ex-lovers? That'd be interesting. Williams must be stronger than he looks, to deal with Adnan, if that's the case."

But Romano disagreed. "I don't think so. Unless Adnan – well – if he swings both ways, you know? Because he's living with Mr. Karpusi now. At least, they were living together last time we were here."

Everyone stared at him. "Y-you're joking. How the bloody hell do you know that?"

"Cheh. I _observe_ things, you moron. Don't you? The albino bastard's always saying 'knowledge is power.' How are you going to get the power if you don't pay attention?"

Mathias whistled long and low. "That's amazing. I had no idea."

"Me neither. I could have been prying!"

"Gilbert, someday someone's going to start prying about your personal life, and you're going to jolly well wish you'd never done such a thing."

"Karma's a bitch," the Dane agreed. "Don't say we didn't warn you."

"How did this get to be all about me? We were talking about Karpusi and Adnan!"

"_Chigi!_ Shut up about all of it, okay, idiots? We still have a ways to go," Romano reminded them. "In fact let's all shut up for a while."

"Sure." Gilbert's voice was vacant; his mind was already elsewhere.

"How's the beep tech coming along?" wondered Arthur, ignoring Lovino's request for silence.

"Oh! Damn. We should have sent Mathias and Leon in the pod, and then come here ourselves. Because I think it's done, and I want to test it."

"It's _done,_ bastard? Already?"

"Well, there might need to be some kinks worked out. This is why I want to test it. But it only works as a ship-to-wrist communication; it's not like we could all wear the wrist things and talk to each other on the ground. Not over these distances."

Mathias looked at his beep thing, which he'd continued to wear even though Gilbert had been working on a different prototype. "What if I give the wrist thing to Roderich or somebody? Then when we get back to the ship we can try to contact him."

"This one wouldn't work with the new tech. But in fact I do need to have a chat with Rod. Let's just see what happens." Gilbert turned to look out of the Rover's window; he needed to think, and hoped nobody would speak to him for the rest of the ride.

After a while, he heard Romano and Arthur murmuring quietly to one another in the back, and began to let his mind drift to the things he wanted to discuss with Rod.

…

Leon was already off investigating the machinery when the transport arrived at Jones. Adnan, eager to receive the new shipment, came with Karpusi to greet them. Gilbert couldn't help staring at them for a moment, but then remembered his manners.

"You'll be staying a few days?" the principal asked.

Everyone fought a smirk, guessing what might come next, and when Adnan continued, "I want to hear all about this kingship thing!" they burst out laughing; Mathias rolled his eyes again.

"_Fandens,_ but yes, all right. Might as well. Maybe I should write a book," he mused. "Then I could just tell people to read the damn book!"

"Well, come on, let's unload the fucking transport."

The large group made short work of the unloading. "I know some people here would like to speak with you," Adnan then said, stretching. "Vladimir and Emil especially."

"Are they doing well? I hope they've got themselves under control." Arthur flexed his fingers.

"They're fine. Not model students, but at least they're doing what they need to get by."

"That's good. Let's go get some coffee or something, bastards."

"Sounds all right to me! Kesesese!"

…

During their extended coffee break, Vladimir dropped by the refectory without Emil, who was in physical education class. "Thanks again. I feel like we're getting on track."

Arthur smiled at him. "Growing up, yeah? There's a lot to handle, especially if you're alone in the world, no parents to help out."

"I know. We – we both want to work to help other underprivileged kids, somehow, once we're done with our schooling."

"That'd be awesome! Find some dome that needs a service like that, and you could really be helping out." Gilbert told the student a little bit of what Williams had said over their dinner, about everyone working together to improve things in the world.

"Yeah. That's about what we mean to do. I just don't know where to start; Emil's been doing research on the types of things we might need to learn about."

Romano sipped coffee. "Planning is good. We'd never have gotten this far without learning about the shit on Persephone."

The class bell rang. "Whoops! Have to go. We'll see you around? Will you be here long?"

"A day or two, maybe," Romano told him. "Don't be late for class." He gave the student a friendly little push and Vladimir ran out the refectory door.

"Good kid."

"Growing up," agreed Gilbert. "I like to see that. I hate stupid people."

Leon slouched into the refectory and up to their table, addressing Romano. "You used to work with the other guy, right? Can you give me a hand with some of the systems? I need two more hands, and nobody else here seems to know what the hell to do with the place." He scowled.

To Gilbert's surprise, Romano nodded. "Sure. You should find some enterprising kids and teach them about it. That's what Mr. Oxenstierna did for me." He pushed himself up off the bench. "What are you bastards going to do, hang around the refectory all day?"

"Let's go downtown," Mathias decided. "See if Feliks is there, or anyone."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, all right. We'll meet you here for dinner? It's just two hours."

"Sounds all right to me. If Leon and I finish before then, I'll come back here and wait for you." The two of them headed to the maintenance area.

"Well? Come on! I need to find Rod, and I want a milkshake, too."

The three went out into the artificial sunlight. "You know, Gilbert, if you don't start exercising you're going to get tubby. All that beer, and now bloody milkshakes?"

"Pfft. Not me. I've got the world's most awesome metabolism."

"Suit yourself. Don't come crying to me when you can't get your trousers zipped in the morning."

"Kesesese! Come on, slowpokes."

"Is your beer ready yet?" Mathias asked Arthur.

"Not yet. Thirty days. It'll be done about a week after the coronation."

"Man, that's too bad, Artie. If it was done before then, you could give some to Their Majesties as a coronation gift. Arthur's Coronation Special!"

"You're an arse, Gilbert. Home-brewed beer as a coronation gift?"

"Hey, it's not a bad idea," Mathias argued. "And it's not home-brewed. It's – it's – "

"Space-brewed! Aw, yeah, Artie. When you perfect it, you can sell it. Space-brewed beer, how awesome."

"_Space-brewed beer_. You two really are a couple of gits."

"Beer-loving gits! Kesesese!"

"Oh, shut it, and let's get you your bloody milkshake."

…

In the town they stopped first in the bank so Arthur could greet Mr. Laurinaitis. To their amazement Feliks was in the bank, just as he'd been the last time they'd seen him. "Like, hello!" he squealed, hugging Gilbert again. "I totally didn't know you were, like, coming back here." He swished his hips a little and giggled. Laurinaitis seemed to be used to this sort of thing by now; he simply smiled at the excitable blond.

Gilbert laughed too. "You're looking great, Feliks. Audition for any movies lately?"

"Oh, no. I'm enjoying my life as a gadabout, to the max! I have so much fun. Every day I, like, come in and see Toris, and we, you know, figure out what we're going to do at night. It's so totally fun, really, you have no idea. We just, like, need to have more interesting nightlife around here."

_Toris_? Gilbert mouthed, above Feliks' head.

Arthur jerked his head towards Mr. Laurinaitis; the albino nodded. The Brit then wandered over to the bank counter to speak to the man.

Feliks hadn't let go of Gilbert yet. "Hey, I love to hug you, Feliks, but you're going to knock me over."

"Whoops! Like, sorry. Sorrysorrysorry." He giggled a little more and stepped back. "So, what are you doing back here?"

"Making a delivery." He and Mathias led Feliks to the side of the room, where they sat on a futuristic-looking sofa to chat. "Just bringing some electrical supplies to Jones." He explained about UKC and their "duty" to supply the underprivileged with things.

"Makes sense, makes total sense. Matthew's a bleeding heart and he totally wants everybody to be all happy and sunshiney with pancakes and maple syrup." Feliks nodded. "Nice of you to do it."

"We're not doing it for free," Mathias laughed. "Still, we didn't really have anything else to do at the moment."

"Going back for, like, King Tino's coronation?"

"Yeah! We got an awesome invitation to a special post-coronation dinner with all these big shots. Kesesese! I can't wait. It's going to be hilarious, sitting there and watching all these uptight people. Are you going?"

"Totes. In fact I wanted to, like, ask you if we could hire your ship to take us back. We have the money."

"Who's _we_?" Gilbert asked him, with deep suspicion. "Rod and Elizaveta?"

Feliks nudged him, giggling. "No! Me and Toris! Tino sent us invitations to that dinner, too. Well, like, he invited me, and a guest, so I'm totally taking Toris." He waved at the bank man, who waved back but continued speaking with Arthur. "Can you take us? Have you got any, like, spare rooms on your ship?"

"Sure," said Mathias. "We'd been planning to head there after this job anyway."

"Good. Because I totally hadn't thought about how we'd, like, get back to Copenhagen until I saw you."

Arthur rejoined them. "Milkshakes now?"

"Yeah, cool." Gilbert stood up. "Any idea where I can find Roderich at this time of day?" he asked Feliks. "Back at the school, I suppose."

"Aha, no, not at all. He and Elizaveta totally arranged for Friday afternoons free. They come downtown to the little park with Lili and play with her. It's, like, adorable, how they always find time to focus on the family. It's just too bad there aren't any other little kids around."

"What little park? I don't know about any awesome parks around here."

"Well, it's, like, not really a park. They found this unused area and they turned it into a little park; some of the teachers and students helped them build a play set and things. It's really nice. I, like, held the hammer for them!" Feliks preened and the others laughed.

"Where can we find this place?"

"Oh, right down the street. You said you were going for milkshakes? Go to the end of the block and turn right. It's just a totally small space, but you'll see it."

"Ta, mate." Arthur shook his hand. "See you around!"

Feliks and Gilbert hugged once more. "Like, keep in touch about the trip," the flirty blond said, before heading back to the bank counter.

"He'll never change," laughed Mathias.

"Why should he? He's happy the way he is." But this response of Gilbert's was somewhat automatic. He really hoped they could find Roddie; he needed to talk to someone sensible and businessy, and Williams hadn't inspired him with the confidence he needed. And then, he needed to shunt Den and Arthur out of the way while he talked to Rod. Damn, this was all going to be so touchy! At least nosy Romano wasn't around to embarrass him with awkward questions.

After grabbing some milkshakes the friends followed Feliks' directions until they found the small area – and it was indeed very small – that had been turned into a park. Elizaveta sat on a bench with Lili on her lap, and Roderich sat at her feet on the paved area, speaking to her in a quiet voice.

They looked like the picture of an adoring couple, and Gilbert couldn't stand it. "Kesesese! Did you guys miss me?" He bounded over and hugged them both.

"Dear God," muttered Roderich; Elizaveta simply glared at him, but the baby gave a little gurgle.

His friends caught up. "Hi," Arthur greeted them, and both the locals softened a little.

"What are you doing here?" the Austrian asked.

"Stuff to deliver. No big deal. Hey, can I talk to you? I need some advice."

"Y-you want to ask _me_ for advice?" Roderich recoiled. "About what?"

"Business."

"W-w-well, I, uh, I suppose so!"

Man, Gilbert wanted to laugh at that panicked expression, but he did need his help. He knew he'd have to be calm and mature about all this so Roderich wouldn't lead him astray out of spite. "I'll meet you guys at the refectory?" he said to his friends.

Mathias, suspicious, narrowed his eyes, but Arthur just clapped him on the back. "Whatever you say. Come on, Doc, let's get out of here." The Dane gave Gilbert one last funny look before following him away.

"What kind of business are you talking about?" Roderich parked it on the bench, taking Lili from her mother. "Sit down. You're blocking the light."

Gilbert sat on the ground where Rod had sat. "I, uh." Damn! Now he didn't know where to start!

"Do you want me to go?" Elizaveta asked delicately.

Hah, she looked like she really wanted to leave. "Whatever you like. This might get boring for you."

"Then I think I'll go. Give me the baby, darling." When Lili was safe in her pram, Elizaveta bent low and waggled a finger in Gilbert's face. "Don't be a jerk!"

"Pfft. When am I ever a jerk?"

Roderich snorted. "When are you not? Go on, sweetheart; I'll catch up with you at dinner." She nodded and left. "So what's all this about?"

In a few short sentences Gilbert explained about the beep device.

"This actually works?"

"Don't be such a skeptic, man. Yeah, I think it does. We forgot to test it. Maybe I can leave the prototype with you and test it when we get back to the ship."

"I don't mind, as long as you're not using it to gab to me all day long." He sniffed. "I do have work to do."

"Kesesese! So do I, my man. So do I."

"But you said you wanted to discuss business?"

"Well, if this works, I want to make them and sell them. I just don't know what to do about it. I've looked up patent laws, and things, but it's all so intense and confusing. I know you're smart and businessy so you seemed like a good person to talk to."

"Matthew might be better. He's somewhat doing that kind of work."

Gilbert shook his head. "Nah. We saw them last week, and I thought about it, but I just don't feel that close to him, you know? I can trust you to be honorable with me; you'd tell me if I had stupid ideas. I feel like he'd pussyfoot around trying to be nice about it."

"Hah! You've got that right." Roderich sat back. "Well, then. Tell me what you've got, and ask what you need to know."

The albino got up off the ground and sat next to his friend on the bench. "Okay. It's like this." Gilbert explained as much as he could. "But I don't want to have to live somewhere and run a factory! I don't know anything about that, plus it sounds really boring."

"You could license them."

"What does that mean?"

"A manufacturing company pays you a fee – for something like this a very, very large fee, since it's going to be so lucrative, if it actually works – "

"It does!"

"– and then you allow them to make it, for a year or two."

"A year or two? What the hell good is that? I want to keep making money."

"You can really be an idiot, Gilbert. After the year or two is up, you charge them another large fee to make them for two more years. You can keep stringing them along and raising the fees, as long as you keep upgrading it. If the tech is really that great, they'll be coining money off it, so to speak, and you can ask for the moon."

"Kesesese! Don't want the moon. Okay. Next question. How do I know what company to approach?"

"Don't worry about that. Once you're certain the tech works, you could host some kind of meeting back on Earth. Just make an announcement in the media and tell them to contact your secretary for admission to the meeting. Then they'd place bids to get the license. You grant them the license to manufacture and then they'd either retool their factory or build a whole new one. You grant them the license based on their prior history; you take bids to see which company gets to do it. A radio company, or something similar to that, is probably going to be the best."

Gilbert nodded. Roderich really was a useful guy to know.

And then the Austrian said something that obsessed Gilbert for a long time. "It would be great if you could get a company to build their manufacturing facility here under the Jones dome. There's a lot of interest from the current inhabitants to bring it up to modern standards, refurbish the housing units, open more entertainment, but there's no reason for anyone to spend the money here, since the only serious business is the academy. A factory would bring in workers and money, and the company could invest in beautification."

The albino nodded again, very slowly. "Good points, Roderich. Good points all." He checked his watch. "Are you going back to the school? I need to head back to meet up with those guys."

"Yes, I'll walk with you." They left the small park behind.

…

Dinner in the refectory was fun; Adnan and even Karpusi asked questions about the kingship, their business, other domes they'd visited. Leon joined them, and while not exactly jovial, he at least unbent a bit and participated in the conversation. Students that remained from their time at Jones nodded, or came to greet them, and Roderich and Elizaveta finally seemed to be relaxing as well.

"Are you going back to Earth for the coronation?" Adnan finally asked.

"Yes. And, oh, Romano, Feliks wants to hire us to take him and Mr. Laurinaitis back for the coronation."

"You…have…extra room?" Karpusi asked dreamily. "Could you…take…us?"

"And us?" Roderich blurted out. Elizaveta gave him a really nasty look. "Well? It makes sense, if they have the room."

Romano felt a bit flustered by all this. "S-sure. We'll give you a group rate. We have space for eight. You said Feliks and Mr. Laurinaitis?" he asked Arthur, just now processing that.

"Yep. Knowledge is power," his friend whispered, and Romano elbowed him.

"So we have space for six more. I'm guessing you don't need an entire bunk for the baby?"

"Of course not. She can stay with us." Elizaveta leaned over to where little Lili sat in a special high chair and tickled her cheek.

"Two more, then, if we're taking all four of you. This is going to be awesome! Like an in-flight party!"

Several people around the table groaned, but then little Lili burped and everyone laughed with a release of tension.

…

At the end of the meal everyone rose. "Where…are you…staying…tonight?"

"Dammit. We have to get the rented transport truck back to Switzerland Dome tonight. I forgot about that. I guess we'll be staying on the ship."

"But then you'd have to rent another transport to get back here to finalize the trip plans. Tell you what," suggested the principal. "Take one of our Rovers with you; you can return the transport and come back here. We can prepare some rooms for you while you're gone, and then we can make plans at your convenience during the upcoming week."

Romano shrugged. He didn't much care where they stayed, but Arthur was already yawning and Gilbert was nodding like a maniac. "That sounds all right. Bastard, you're driving the truck?" he asked the albino.

"Kesesese! Sure. Mathias and I will take the truck, and you and Arthur can go in the Rover. Okay?"

Arthur yawned again. "You're driving, right, git?"

"Yeah. I'll drive." He turned back to Adnan. "Thanks for the offer. We'll be back in a few hours; probably before curfew, though."

"There is…no more…curfew. We…trust the…students."

"Well, that's awesome. Wish they'd trusted us more. Come on, boys, let's get moving."

"Where can we find you when we get back?" Romano wondered.

"Ah, I've got work to do, even though it's Friday. Meet me in my office." Adnan sighed. "I need an assistant."

"Kesesese! Don't we all!"

…

Gilbert got the hang of driving rather quickly. "So how did your talk with Roderich go?" asked Mathias.

He shrugged. "He has good ideas. I was asking him about the beep tech thing." He punched the steering wheel. "I wish Artie hadn't called it 'beep tech.' I can't get that out of my head!"

"Ah, don't worry. You'll think of something better. Did Rod help you?"

"He did. I'm glad, too; I was afraid he'd be all hoity-toity, but he leveled with me. It was cool." Gilbert explained about licensing.

"Not much room on Earth for big factories anymore."

"Well, he did say the winning company might retool an existing factory." Ah, what the hell. He could throw out Rod's idea; maybe Mathias would be able to see any flaws in it. "He also suggested I get the winning company to build a factory here."

"Here on Mars?"

"At Jones specifically. He said everyone who lives there now is bored, basically, but Matthew and the government and them, they won't spend money here, because the school's the only moneymaker. He thinks a factory would be good because more people would move here, and the company would spend money on things for social life, and beautification and shit."

"He's probably right." Mathias scratched his head. "Uh, I have to ask you something. You know I think you're brilliant."

"Because I am!"

"Well. Yes. You are, but let me finish. Don't you need to do some serious testing? Not just me walking around with the thing on my wrist? You should do distance testing, see how far away I have to be before it stops working, and stuff like that. You need more data to prove to the bidders that it's worth bidding on. A lot of prototypes, and a lot of different test results."

"I do know, but I'm glad you said that. I want this to be a joint project for all of us, even though I developed it. So if you guys can help me out, that'll be great." Gilbert wasn't concentrating on driving, though, and the truck bounced over uneven terrain at a high speed, flinging them around the cab. "Whoops! Sorry!" he laughed, righting it.

"Do you want me to finish the driving?" Mathias rubbed his head where it had hit the side of the car.

"Nah. We're only about half an hour away. Yee-haw!" he yelled, an old American war cry, and floored it.

…

In the Rover, Lovino was driving sedately, for which Arthur was grateful. "You okay, bastard?"

"Eh. Yeah. Someday I want to find out just why Roderich and Elizaveta seem to hate Gilbert so much. It's unreasonable." He cut his eyes to his friend with a grin. "I mean, even _you_ can handle him. Why can't they?"

"Pfft. He goads them."

"So? He goads you. And me and even Mathias. And we don't have that nasty reaction they always have." He leaned back in the seat. "I just think they need to loosen up a little. It's not like he's being malicious to them."

"I know. But they're just uptight that way."

A few kilometers later Arthur spoke up again. "Did you – ah, forget it."

"No way, bastard. You started speaking, you finish speaking." Romano poked him.

"Did you hear what Gilbert said about building a dock at Jones?" He flinched a little, in case the Italian lashed out with a punch.

But he didn't. "Yeah, I heard it. So what?"

"Maybe we should."

"What, so he can win his stupid bet? Dammit, Arthur, whose side are you on, anyway?"

"It's not about _sides._ It's about common sense. You know that if we have this annoyance of renting transports, other people do too. Building a dock would make it easier on a lot of people."

"Fuck. Why should _we_ pay for a goddamn dock?"

"Why not? I bet UKC could give us some supplies, and the government might help pay for part of it. We have the means, so we could do this." He grinned. "Plus then they'd all owe us, wouldn't they?"

"Hah. That's true, at least." Romano seemed thoughtful. "Don't say anything about this to the bastard."

"Which bastard?"

"Gilbert, dammit. Not yet. He's going to think we're doing it just so he can win his bet."

"Pfft. Docks don't get built overnight. It might take more than a year to build it, and then he'd lose the bloody bet."

"Or they might ask us to transport the shit, and we'd be here four times in the next month! Idiot."

Arthur laughed. "Well, all right. It could go either way. But I think we should talk to them about it, when we've all got some spare time together."

Romano sighed. "Yes, yes. We'll have spare time in the damn Rover on the way back to Jones. Now, let me focus on driving. We only have about ten more minutes until we get there."

"Yes, Captain."

"_Stupido bastardo inglese,_" the captain muttered.

…

By the time they all got back to the school they were pretty much in agreement. They'd talk to Matthew, when the coronation was over, about investing in a dock for the dome at Jones, but only if they could get some money from the government, too. And Gilbert would try to recruit some beep tech testers from amongst the students and faculty. He'd need to build more prototypes, but that wouldn't be a problem, now that he'd worked out the tech. Romano had actually offered to help build them! That was amazing, and Gilbert had thanked him nicely for the offer.

The upcoming week would be spent discussing and working on this, and generally relaxing and socializing with the people under the Jones dome. Gilbert was pretty pumped. After that? The coronation, and Arthur's awesome beer!

…

_Sorry. I don't know any Prussian war cries, and couldn't find any on the internet._

_Beginning to wind down on this one; maybe 4-5 more chapters._


	40. The Coronation

**The Coronation.**

Everyone had gone their separate ways after reaching Copenhagen, but the friends and their passengers would be meeting up again later tonight, at the banquet. The trip had not been as bad as Romano (or Roderich and Elizaveta) had feared; little baby Lili was quite the icebreaker, and everyone had finished the trip in an open and friendly frame of mind. In a few days the Bunny would need to take all the passengers back to Jones, but for now, it was a festive time, a vacation, and the friends were determined to enjoy it, though the noise level everywhere was outrageous.

They'd invited Vladimir and Emil to join them, since they had had the two spare bunks in the Bunny. Arthur had argued most strongly for this, pointing out that those two would probably never have a chance to witness something so extravagant, being alone as they were in the world. His friends had all agreed. Romano had a warm feeling in his heart about this, although that was more because of Arthur's thoughtfulness, and not from any fucking do-gooder sensations of his own.

At the moment, a ceremonial parade passed through the city, with marching bands, floats, and the members of the National Committee and others, either riding in antique-style coaches pulled by sleek black horses, or on pristine white steeds. Throngs of people crowded the ornately-decorated streets, waving flags and yelling, and everywhere they looked they saw people hawking things: souvenir trinkets, food, drinks, hats, everything. Gilbert had bought a spoon with a picture of Tino and Berwald which he clenched as if his life depended on it.

The two young students stood close by, holding hands and watching the entire scenario with wide, disbelieving eyes, pointing out every little thing they saw. When Arthur had told them about Mathias and the kingship, both of them had freaked out a little, before realizing he was still just a regular guy, not some damn bigshot, some uptight bastard like the macho potato's dad. Romano snorted. He hoped they wouldn't run into _him_ at this thing tonight.

Berwald was not, to everyone's merriment, titled the Queen; he was to be called the Prince Consort. "Oh, well," Mathias had laughed. "It's probably better this way."

They saw Ms. Mancham in a coach, Norge and even Eduard riding horses in a phalanx with others; and then the crowd began screaming madly. "Guess the fucking royal coach is coming."

Gilbert rushed around to climb up on Mathias' broad back. "Let me ride piggyback," he begged. "I really want to see!"

Mathias shrugged and hoisted him up; Gilbert rose above the heads of the crowd just in time to see the coach. "Hey, _Tino!_" he yelled, not really expecting the new king to hear him; some people nearby looked shocked at this informal address. But Berwald caught his eye and nodded; Gilbert grinned and waved the spoon like a flag in his excitement.

Seconds later the coach had passed from view and he slid off the Dane's back. "Whew."

"Happy now, bastard? You saw the coach?"

"Yes, I'm happy. Seriously, Lovino, how often do you get to see something like this? Act a little more excited, will you?"

Vladimir grinned at that, but Emil was still staring after the coach.

"Cheh, whatever. Now what? Back to the ship? We've got to get all prettied up for the damn banquet." Of course there hadn't been any hotel rooms available. Most of their passengers had local contacts and were staying in private homes, but the four friends and the two broke students hadn't bothered to look for alternate accommodation.

"Sure. That okay with you guys?"

"Fine with me, git." After Arthur had spoken, they all glanced up at Mathias, who was staring after the coach wistfully.

"Wishing it was you? Kesesese!"

"Ah, no," the Dane sighed. "Just wondering. Wondering what it might have been like."

"Lots of excited people around. You'd probably get cheered no matter where you went, for the rest of your life," Arthur considered. "Hard for a bloke like you to go unrecognized."

"Yeah, I know. No. I'm thinking about the loss of freedom. Tino might be all right with it, but I feel like our lives are just beginning, you know? Having to be chained to a throne for the rest of my life was a hideous thought."

"Well, forget it, bastard. You're well out of it, and we've got our freedom and our lives ahead of us. Let's go put on our new suits and make nice with the royalty."

Mathias put hand on Emil's shoulder. The ice-blond student, still in a daze as he watched the crowd, startled at that, but then smiled. "Let's get moving." Together the friends pushed against the excitable crowd in order to return to the Bunny.

…

That evening, guests congregated in the Palace Museum for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. The space travelers fit in quite well, in new and crisp dark suits purchased in Copenhagen a few days ago. (Merchants in the city were making a fortune off all the visitors.)

Mathias and Gilbert had dragged the young students off in search of the King and Prince Consort almost immediately, as an adventure, but the other two were randomly floating through the building with glasses of champagne in hand, quietly observing and talking to one another.

Romano in particular felt very grown-up and elegant, and he smiled as he looked over at Arthur, whose suit was just as classy, though his hair was the usual bird's-nest. "You're fucking adorable," he murmured with a grin.

"_You_ look like a high-powered business executive. You fit right in."

"Sometimes I think I could be a pretty good business executive, if I had the right kind of job. It's just the idea of working for some shithead corporation that turns me off. I feel like I'm a pretty good organizer."

"Well, you were, when we were selling stuff. You know? It was all your idea, your plans. The rest of us were like your employees. That's why we agreed to let you be the captain, you know. You're the best organizer."

"Pfft. Not the best figurehead, though. Any of you other bastards would be better than I am, at that. I'm too antisocial."

"You'll do," Arthur smiled. "You're getting better at it, anyway. I was impressed, when you volunteered to help Gilbert with his beep tech stuff."

"I don't mind. When you think about it, he's done a lot for us. I feel like all I do is sit in that chair and boss you bastards around, and here he is making us money, helping us live this easy lifestyle."

"Don't worry about it. We're a team, right? You make the decisions, he'll make the money. I just wish I was contributing more. Navigation and bloody beermaking isn't really doing much to further our aims."

"I'm looking forward to trying your beer, I have to admit. Normally I don't like beer, but since you're making it, I'll try it and gladly."

"You make such wonderful sacrifices for me, git."

"Supercilious bastard. Shut up."

Before the conversation could degenerate further, Romano felt a gentle touch on his arm and turned to see Eduard smiling at them. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"So far," laughed Arthur. "Quite a crowd you have here." He scanned the room.

"This is the social event of the decade, for this part of the world. You wouldn't believe how many people have been angling for invitations."

"How many people got invited, anyway?"

"We had to limit the guest list to three thousand; that was all the building and grounds can safely hold. But that's just for this cocktail reception. For the actual dinner there are only six hundred seats, mostly world leaders and their dates or assistants."

"And we made the cut?" Romano was amazed. "How the hell – oh, because of Mathias."

"I think the King and Prince would have invited you anyway. They're quite fond of you all."

"We're happy to be here," Arthur told him.

"Like, hey!" they heard, and turned to see the grinning Feliks in a flashy red suit, accompanied by the more sober Mr. Laurinaitis in navy blue. The bank man had invited them to address him as Toris now, and Romano was trying, but after those difficult times during the lockdown, the man's last name was so firmly ingrained in his consciousness that he was finding it very hard to do. But he made the effort now.

"Hi." They all shook hands; Feliks introduced Toris to Eduard. "So, like, where is the royalty? And where's my friend Gilbert? I totes want to show off my new suit. I thought about him when I bought it, because it, like, matches his eyes." Feliks waggled his eyebrows.

Romano tried not to snort. "They're off looking for the King," he explained. Feliks nodded.

"I've got to be going," Eduard then said.

"They've got you working even tonight?"

"Not really. I just feel more comfortable overseeing my part of the preparations. To make sure they're going well."

"Makes sense, bastard. Good luck."

Eduard moved off, and after some chat Feliks dragged Toris away as well. "Oh, there's Matthew," Arthur pointed out. "Let's go say hi."

Romano took his now-empty champagne glass. "You go. I'll refresh these and catch up."

"Okay." Arthur headed over; as Romano swapped their empty glasses for full ones from a waitress' tray he saw his friend rest a hand gently on Williams' shoulder to catch his attention.

Williams turned to face Arthur, appearing shocked, as if he'd never seen the Brit before, and then he began blushing furiously. Arthur drew his hand back quickly and began to back away, but Williams reached out to stop him.

No! It was someone else, Romano saw that now. Williams was just about the same height as Arthur, but this bastard was a bit taller, and bulkier too. The Italian watched as the man's stance softened, and he leaned forward towards Arthur, who was now red-faced and trying to back away again. The man tried to take his hand, too.

Dammit! Romano could see exactly what was happening. This not-Williams bastard was interested in Arthur. Well, fuck that. He set the champagne glasses down again and pushed through the crowds until he reached his friend's side, putting an arm around him quickly. "Hey," he blurted. Shit, he had no idea how to handle this.

"Uh?" the other man said.

"I'm _s-sorry_," Arthur stammered, apparently repeating himself. "I thought you were someone I knew."

The man grinned. "You must mean my twin brother. Matthew?"

"Matthew Williams, that's right, dammit." Romano kept his arm around Arthur's waist, just to be sure this bastard got the message. Nobody was going to – to poach Arthur away from him!

"Yeah, well, he's around here somewhere. My name's Alfred."

"How do you do?" Arthur had regained his composure and held out a hand. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, and this is – ah – Romano Vargas." Shit, Romano hoped this bastard didn't recognize his name. He hadn't had to introduce himself to anyone new for a long time now.

But Alfred didn't react to it. "Friends of the King and Prince?" he asked instead with a blinding smile, as he shook Arthur's hand.

"We knew them previously, yes." Arthur nodded.

Romano decided just to let his friend handle the conversation; mindful of his own antisocial nature, he was afraid of blurting out something rude to this bastard, who (he could see) was still giving Arthur the eye.

"On Persephone? Man, I always wanted to hang out there, but I had other work to do." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Mattie and Katia are here; I'm sure you'll run into them. You do know Katia? I'm married to her sister Natalia. Don't know where she got to, though."

Both Arthur and Romano froze at that revelation; the Italian had to bite his lip to keep from making any awkward commentary about that cold bitch. But then, that explained why she hadn't been so flirty on Persephone. But if he was married, why was he drooling over Arthur? Cheh. Not that Arthur wasn't drool-worthy. Romano knew his lover was the best-looking man at the reception. He smiled to himself.

"Well, we'll – er – be moving on," Arthur finally told this Alfred, clearly uncomfortable. "We need to find our friends."

"Nice to have met you," Alfred replied. Romano just nodded and drew Arthur into the crowd.

"Dammit. What a leering bastard."

"Married to Natalia? Brave chap."

"Maybe she told him she was the head of the Resistance, and he latched onto her because of that. Remember? Katia said she was trying to claim responsibility for the whole thing."

"But he's a lot older than she is. Isn't Williams in his mid-thirties? So if they're twins, unless he's a complete dope, he ought to be able to work out that she's too young. And anyway, I find it hard to believe Matthew wouldn't set his own brother straight about that."

"Whatever. Let's go find the other bastards. Maybe they've finished speaking to Their Majesties."

…

The others wouldn't have had a chance of getting near the new King and Prince, except that both Berwald and Mathias towered over everyone in the room. The Swede caught Mathias' eye and beckoned them close; the crowds parted to see just who was important enough to be personally invited closer by the Prince Consort. By Tino's side, Norge stood, smiling just a little during this happy event.

"Kesesese! This is so awesome!"

Mathias elbowed him sharply. "Bow," he hissed, bowing. Emil and Vladimir hurriedly followed suit.

"Oh. Right!" Gilbert sketched a bow. "How are you?"

Tino laughed his merry laugh. "We're doing just fine! It's a bit of a whirlwind, but we'll get through it. Such an amazing change in fortunes in such a short time." He took Berwald's hand. "I'm just happy we get to be together again," he confessed quietly. "Becoming the rulers of Scandinavia is going to be a fun way of doing it!"

"We're happy for you. Got a lot of civic duties lined up?"

"N't y't. Have t'get through th' ceremoni'l stuff f'rst."

"At least that's fun! Nothing like on Persephone, right? Am I right?" Gilbert beamed.

"You're right," Tino laughed again.

"How are you doing?" Norge asked Mathias with a grin, shaking his hand. "Both of you. All of you!"

"We're fine. The company is doing well."

"And you two." Norge shook hands pleasantly with both Emil and Vladimir. "We haven't seen you since you were on Persephone for a few weeks."

Emil cleared his throat. "We – ah – we had some – "

"We're back at school at Jones now," Vlad interrupted bluntly, "and doing all right."

"Thanks for inviting us tonight." Mathias tried to get the younger boys out of what he could see was an awkward conversation.

"Mathias, you'd be very silly to think we wouldn't invite _you._"

"Wouldn't be h're if n't for you."

The Dane shrugged lightly as Gilbert hugged him. "Kesesese! Worked out perfectly for everybody, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did," Norge agreed, as Their Majesties nodded.

Someone approached the group from the side, hailing King Tino. "Excuse us, please," the king begged. "We'll see you at the banquet?"

"All right! Come on, boys, let's move out, and give them some time with their other awesome friends." Gilbert cleared a path and the four of them slipped away.

"We should find Arthur and Lovino."

Arthur's voice came from nearby. "Don't have to look far."

"Hey. Having fun?"

"Eh, it's different, I'll grant you. I feel bloody rustic and stupid, too. Like an impostor with all these bigwigs."

"You're fine, Artie. We just got done talking to them. Actual royalty! I shook their hands. It was awesome." Gilbert sighed, starry-eyed.

"I can't believe you, you dumb bastard. It's just Tino and Mr. Oxenstierna!"

"But they're anointed now, or consecrated, or whatever. It really is amazing, to think that the maintenance man from Jones Academy is now the Prince Consort of all Scandinavia."

Romano nodded. "Well, when you put it that way, you're absolutely right. Hey, Feliks is looking for you. Wants to show off his new red suit."

"Red suit?" Mathias laughed. "Bet he looks like the devil."

"Pfft. He looks perfectly fine." Romano then elbowed Vladimir. "Are you two all right?"

"Stunned," the fanged bastard admitted. "I feel like an impostor, too, but – but I don't really feel like anyone cares. I'm just an onlooker."

"I'm nervous about doing something wrong," Emil confessed quietly. "Using the wrong fork at dinner or whatever."

"Don't worry so much. Just do whatever you do with awesome confidence, as if you absolutely know it's the right thing to do. Then you'll look like you know what you're doing, and nobody will be checking your forks. Kesesese!"

Romano narrowed his eyes. "Is that how you do it, bastard?"

Gilbert preened. "Of course. If you look insecure everyone's going to be watching to see what you're nervous about."

"That…actually makes sense."

"Everything I say always makes the most awesome sense ever."

Romano snorted. "Hey, did they tell you there are three thousand people here?"

"I'd believe it." Mathias stared around the crowd. "Where are they going to seat them all?"

"No, only six hundred are invited to the dinner part." Arthur explained what Eduard had told them.

"We're so awesome, yes, we are," Gilbert sang out, doing a little shuffle step as best he could. "_We_ are part of the elite six hundred!"

"Because _we,_ stupid, are friends with Mathias."

The albino's face fell. "Yeah, I know, Romano, but you don't have to be such a goddamn wet blanket all the time!"

"Don't fight. Not here." Arthur pushed between them. "Let's wander, see if we can find the banqueting hall."

"Okay." Mathias took Romano by the arm; Arthur took Gilbert, and the students followed, as they moved off.

…

When the dinner finally began they were all pleased to find themselves at a long table with people they knew. Roderich, Elizaveta, Adnan, Karpusi, Ludwig (who had, to the astonishment of all, shaved his head), Feliciano, Feliks, Toris, and a few people they didn't recognize. "Well, this should be fun," Arthur laughed, sitting opposite Roderich.

"I agree. Now, where should I awesomely sit?" Gilbert considered the seating arrangement.

"Down that way." Roderich flapped his hand towards the other end of the long table, and everyone laughed.

"Hey, like, sit near me, Gilbert!" Feliks motioned towards the seat opposite him.

"Yes, all right. You look totally awesome," he told the blond.

"Thanks. I feel totally awesome too! All our hard work during the bad times, like, paid off enormous dividends. It's a great day for Tino and Berwald, you know."

Conversation floated to various topics as other people entered the room, found their seats. "I heard the Jones Academy is for sale," Ludwig mentioned to the table in general. Romano kept staring at his bald head. He wondered what the hell made someone want to do that.

Gilbert reached for his drink. "No, not the academy. The whole dome is for sale. Matthew told us the new government doesn't want to use it for criminal students, so they don't want to keep footing the bill."

"You should buy it," Adnan suggested.

"'You' who?" Romano scowled. Gilbert?

"You four. You're already a licensed business, and you seem to come back to Jones quite frequently. You could buy it and turn it into legitimate headquarters."

Before Romano could spit a vitriolic answer, Mathias shook his head. "I don't think we could afford to buy the whole dome, and maintain it and whatever."

"I'd totally help. I'm no moneybags but I've got, like, a little bit put away, and I could help out."

Roderich cleared his throat. "You could form a consortium. _We_ could form a consortium. I'd contribute."

"What? A what?" Dammit, Romano didn't like the way the conversation was going, but he couldn't be rude and change the subject. Not right now.

"A consortium of buyers. Like a board of directors, comprising people with a stake in the outcome. Everyone contributes to the purchase of the dome, and the decision power is divided up based on the percentage put forth. For example, if your company covered fifty percent of the price –"

"Make that an awesome fifty-one, so we have the majority – "

"– then you'd be in position to make most of the decisions. Feliks, and anyone else going in on it, would get votes, but their votes would be smaller, since their share of the contribution would be smaller."

"I'd join up," Laurinaitis agreed. "That's sound business sense, and since I live there I've got an interest in making the place better."

"I agree. Even _if_ Gilbert is part of it." This snappish comment of Elizaveta's set everyone laughing, and Romano finally felt he could change the subject.

"Have the new King and Prince announced anything specific they have to do, in their new roles?" He felt like an ass, but investing in Jones – ugh. _Not_ on his to-do list!

"Lots of…public appearances…" Karpusi delicately nibbled on a tiny quiche.

"No kidding." Adnan, reaching for his water glass, agreed. "They're going to be in the media for a long time now. I hope Berwald's up to it."

"Tino was, like, groomed for a long time for this, so he's totally ready, I know."

"Here they come!" Elizaveta stood up at her seat to watch the ceremonial entrance.

Rising as well, Arthur rolled his eyes at Romano, but then turned to focus on the arriving royalty. Well, shit, yes, of course _Arthur_ would understand why he'd changed the subject. He just hoped nobody else would bring up the topic again.

He hadn't seen the perplexed looks that Feliks, Ludwig, or Adnan had directed at him, and so he was quite content, for the rest of the evening, when the subject remained buried.

…

After the banquet a musical ensemble set up on a small stage behind the dais and began to play very old-fashioned, calm music. Berwald and Tino immediately got up and began to waltz; Roderich led Elizaveta onto the floor, and many other couples joined in, including Gilbert and Mathias, who clearly had no idea what they were doing, but had fun trying.

"Er. I hope you don't want to dance. I don't know how."

Romano laughed out loud. "Don't worry about that at all, bastard. Neither do I, and even if I did – even though those two are dancing together – I'm not sure I'd want to dance with a man. In public. You know?" He felt a little bad at this statement, but it was manifestly true.

"I understand. I'd love to hold you and show you off to everyone, but I'd feel a little funny, too."

"Let's go see if we can find Matthew and Katia? Maybe we can talk to them about the new dock proposal."

Arthur smirked. "But you don't want to buy the dome there, I know."

"Dammit. Was I that transparent?"

"To me, yeah; maybe to Gilbert and Mathias, because they know how much you hate it, too. But I could see people like Feli and Ludwig were confused. At least they dropped the subject."

But this provided a welcome distraction. "Why the hell did the potato bastard shave his head?"

"How would I know? Want me to ask?"

"Ah, fuck, no. I don't really care. It – it just makes him look a lot more menacing than he used to, and he looked pretty fucking menacing before."

"I wonder whether he and Feliciano are lovers."

"Where the hell did that come from?"

Arthur smirked. "Well, you know they say all the hottest men come from Italy. I personally can attest to that, since – " But he had to stop, because he was laughing so hard, even though Romano kept punching him.

"Sh-shut up, stupid." Romano ran a hand over his reddened face. "Forget about Matthew and Katia. Let's go outside for a walk or something." Now he felt like a complete idiot, and had to get out of here.

"Sure. Whatever you like." Arthur gestured towards a large set of double doors leading onto a terrace. They wandered outside together and began to promenade around the building. "Looks like this terrace might encircle the whole building."

"Do you think there might be guards? Because Tino and Mr. Ox-uh, dammit, Prince _Berwald_, are in there?"

"Maybe. Let's just be calm and walk. Okay?"

"Okay." Romano tried to calm himself down; his eyes darted to all parts of the rooftops and surrounding areas, checking for guards.

When they'd strolled in silence for a bit, he took a deep breath. "You know…" But then he stopped.

"I know a lot of things."

"Dammit, do you have to be so fucking funny all the time? Just shut up!"

"Shutting up now." Arthur sounded very contrite. Lovino reached for his hand in the semidarkness.

"Sorry. I just – just wanted to tell you that nothing's ever going to separate us. No fucking kingships or any of that shit. Okay? I – I want us to stay together, and be happy."

Arthur stopped walking. "Well, I do too! What put this in your head all of a sudden? I'm not going anywhere."

"That bastard earlier."

"Bastard, bastard…? What bastard?"

"Williams' fucking twin, that's who!" Oh, Romano felt stupid, but he was so jealous, even though Arthur hadn't shown any interest in the tall blond.

"Oh. You're a git."

"What? Why?" Why would Arthur think such a thing, when he was trying to be romantic?

"You really think I'm so shallow I could be – be _lured away_ from you?"

Oh. "N-no, I – well – I didn't think of it that way! All right? I just saw him drooling over you and I didn't like it. I was – was jealous, okay?"

When Arthur spoke again his voice was softer. "Yeah. All right. I'd probably be bloody jealous too."

They'd reached the corner of the building, and there was indeed an armed guard there. "Sorry, sirs, you'll have to go back. No access this way."

"F-fine! Fine! We're going." Romano grabbed Arthur's arm and hurriedly turned around. "Whew, that was close."

"Remember what Gilbert said? Act confident. Stop acting like a panicky wanker."

"Fine. Take me inside and get me a drink."

"If that's what it takes to calm you down, your wish is my command. Come on, let's go." Arthur rested a hand in the small of Lovino's back and led him towards the doors again.

…

"Having fun?" Gilbert asked Mathias, as they headed to the bar for cooling drinks.

"This is wild! I'm just a kid from a dumpy neighborhood, and here I am at this fancy reception for a new king and queen of Scandinavia. Not queen. You know what I mean." He lifted a glass of sparkling water and drank.

"We all are like that, you know. But think about this. Every time we've made a decision as a group, it just seemed like the logical thing for us to do, right? Even tiny decisions like taking Matthew's freight job instead of hanging around Voyager Dome for a while longer. All those decisions were just 'what to do next.' But when you think about them all together, they were all decisions that brought us here."

"You mean 'here to this point in our lives,' don't you?" Mathias' grin was bright. "I know what you mean. I sometimes think that we are becoming bigshots ourselves, mostly because everybody knows about me and the king thing, but also because of the other stuff we've been doing." They took their drinks to an empty table and sat.

"I don't know. The more people you meet, the more chance there is for, ah, fame, or power, or whatever. As long as you handle it all right. It's an interesting theory. We have the opportunity to drive change, now."

"Except we really don't, because Romano's so anti-Jones."

"Ah, well. Either we'll awesomely talk him around to things, or we'll find some other place to do good works. The world's been in such upheaval; it's nice to think about creating a stable place for people."

"You're such a nice guy, Triple G."

"I am, it's true. Even though you keep calling me Triple G, I remain calm and nice."

"Because you love me," Mathias laughed, raising his glass.

Gilbert smiled at him. "Because I do," he agreed, toasting his friend.

…

Later, the four friends relaxed around a table, ties loosened, jackets removed and thrown casually over chair backs. The crowd was much merrier, probably because of the open bar. "Hey, check it out," Mathias laughed, pointing. "Berating her brother-in-law."

"Is that Natalia?" Arthur squinted. "But that's not Williams. He has a twin brother, we just learned tonight. And the twin is married to her."

"Whoa! Married to Natalia?" Gilbert whistled through his teeth. "That's – amazing."

As they watched, she got more and more animated, yelling at the twin bastard, and then he scowled and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and striding through the crowds, most of whom were laughing at this. "Drunk, is she?"

"Looks that way." Natalia hung over his shoulder, pounding his back with her fists, but the bastard ignored her and headed right out of the ballroom. "Pfft. Whatever."

The king and prince had finally gotten some time off from all the glad-handing and photo ops, and now they were talking quietly to the still-nervous Emil and Vladimir, and Norge and Eduard were with them as well. "Maybe they'll offer the kids a job in the palace somewhere," Arthur suggested, rolling up his sleeves.

The Dane shrugged. "Maybe. I have to wonder how strong those two are. Vlad said they wanted to start some kind of center for troubled youth. Which sounds really dynamic and – and _important._ Useful. But if Tino offered them jobs, I wonder if they'd just take the jobs here for security's sake, instead of following their dream."

"Wish everybody had the chance to follow their dreams." Romano leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Want another drink? Ice water, or something?" Arthur asked him.

"Nah, I'm all right. Just thinking about all this."

Gilbert poked him in the arm. "Why didn't you want to talk about buying the Jones dome? If we did that consortium thing that Roddie talked about, at least we wouldn't have to foot the whole bill ourselves. And then I'd have a ready-made place for the beep tech factory. We could fix up all those housing units for the factory workers…"

"Bastard. Why the hell would I want to live there?"

But his friends were silent for so long that he opened his eyes to find them staring at him. "What? What?" he asked, in a panic.

"Who said we had to live there?" Arthur snorted. "I thought we'd still be jaunting around in the Bunny. I don't want to give that up. Not for a while yet."

"I agree." Mathias put his glass on the table. "It'd be useful to have a base, though, especially now that we'll be building the dock."

"Plus if we owned it we'd get to make all the awesome rules, you know. _We_ would get to make the rules."

"We and the fucking consortium."

"But if we had the majority, like Gilbert said, then the consortium would have to do whatever we bloody well wanted them to do."

"I bet Rod would make a great local administrator, too, if he was part of it. He could run the place while we were off having fun! Seriously, Romano, think about it."

"I am thinking about it, you ass. I'm thinking about having to go back to fucking Jones all the time."

Mathias took up his drink again. "Nothing really wrong with Jones, you know. I mean, when you really think about it. Yeah, it was a harsh place, and we all had harsh times there, but that's all over. Why not buy it and fix it up? If we change it around enough, it won't even look the same. Bad memories gone, clean slate?"

"I don't like the name Jones, though. It's not awesome enough. And besides, he was an American, right, and none of us are Americans."

"Thank God," Arthur snorted.

"Anyway, we should rename it, if we buy it."

"King Denmark Dome."

"Kesesese! That's idiotic."

"Yeah, I know. I was just joking." Arthur raised his glass in a toast to Mathias, who laughed.

"If it's your fucking beep tech that's going to fund the place, we – we ought to call it, uh, Beilschmidt Dome." Romano couldn't meet anyone's eyes, and when they all started laughing at that, he covered his face with a hand. "Shut up."

"Nah. If we're all doing it together we ought to call it Skirmish Dome," Gilbert decided.

This made Romano sit up straight and give him a disturbed glance. "You must be joking."

"Not joking at all. Why? Makes sense, if the company's going to be the majority owner."

"Uh? Well, I don't know! It just sounds – oh, hell."

"I know what you mean," Arthur told him soothingly. "It sounds too pompous for four delinquent blokes who came from nowhere. Right?" When Romano nodded, he continued speaking. "You know it'd be all right. Like Gilbert said before. Do it with confidence."

"Look at Berwald," Mathias put in. "They told us that Tino had been groomed for this all his life, remember? But Berwald wasn't. I don't even know if he knew this about Tino when they met, or even after they got married. If it had been me, I probably wouldn't have said anything until the time they actually needed me to be the king. And yet Berwald's handling it pretty well."

"Pfft. He's got it fucking easy. He never talks, anyway, so all he has to do is stand there and look kingly. Princely."

"But still. You know Mathias is right."

"I know, dammit."

"Hey, here come Ludwig and Feliciano."

"Shit. I'm going to keep my mouth shut." Romano blushed again. "But ask him why the fuck he shaved his head. He looks like a goddamn thug!" He grabbed Arthur's water glass and drank as the other two joined them.

"Ve, isn't this fun?"

"Exhausting," Gilbert grinned. "And hot in here. Makes me wish I'd shaved my head, too. Why'd you do it?"

Ludwig grunted at him and ran a hand over his head, not meeting his eyes. "Just for a change of pace."

"Ve, it feels so nice, though," Feliciano said, running both his hands all over the gleaming dome. "Doesn't that feel nice, Ludwig, ve?"

"Stop that." Ludwig grabbed his hands with a blush. "Not now."

Dammit, Romano wanted to fall through the floor. He didn't need to witness the stupid potato bastard and Feliciano making nice with each other, and – and – dammit!

He must have snorted or something, because Arthur gave him a worried look. Romano forced a smile and decided to try to be friendly. "How long have you been here, bastards?"

"And is your awesome dad here, Ludwig?"

"Ah. No, my father remained at headquarters."

"We came up a few days ago, ve, and we get to stay for two more days to see the sights! Plus Ludwig's father paid for a hoverlimo for us!"

"That's nice. We had our first hoverlimo trip when we came to see you in Athens."

"If we didn't live so close to work, ve, I'd take one all the time. But our apartment is only about three blocks from the offices."

"You live together?" Gilbert was prying again, but Romano didn't care. He repressed a snicker as he remembered Arthur's comments about hot Italian men.

"Ve, yes. It is difficult, though. Ludwig is very neat, and I'm very messy. We're constantly arguing about cleaning up the place, ve."

"Still. It's good to have a friend nearby," Arthur smiled.

"That's true." The German finally met their eyes. "It is good."

Vladimir and Emil came back. "Wow. Lots of drunk people here!"

"Some people seize any excuse to celebrate." Ludwig frowned around at the guests, many of whom were indeed beginning to act a bit silly. "They should remember that this is a formal occasion."

"We saw Natalia's husband carrying her out a little while ago," Arthur told him with a grin.

Gilbert had been silent for a few minutes, and now he looked right at the macho potato and asked, "Who's the head of the Resistance?"

Everyone at the table froze. Romano had been gazing at Feliciano, wondering how he could stand to deal with the potato bastard all the time, and he saw the dark eyes flicker towards Ludwig and then to the dance floor before he forced a short laugh. Then he looked at Ludwig, who was bright red; his blue eyes were stretched wide. "Ah? Why – why do you ask such a thing?" he waffled.

"Just curious." Gilbert's tone was light and easy, as if he wasn't burning to know the answer; he kept his eyes on Ludwig. "Thinking about the Resistance while we're here, and Tino, and Persephone and all."

Romano was intensely interested now, too, given the macho potato's reaction: he stammered and flapped a hand at the dance floor; Feliciano broke into his rambling with a loud, "Ve! Ludwig, will you dance with me?"

"Wh-why, yes, I will." They scurried away from the table and all four of the friends started laughing, though Emil and Vlad looked really, really confused.

"Bastard, not too subtle of you."

"Ah, but I didn't want subtle. I wanted to spring it on them and see what they'd blurt out. Too bad I didn't have time to give him the Awesome Grin. He'd have spilled it for sure." He drank. "I bet it's this brother of Matthew's."

"What? Why the hell would you think that, bastard? We never even heard of him until tonight!"

"Well? We wouldn't, if they were trying to keep him secret. _And_ it explains why Williams was so freaked out that night."

"No." Mathias shook his head. "Williams had the same reaction that Ludwig just had. Panic. Could be anybody."

"But then why didn't we ever see him, or whatever? Ah, hell. I need to do more research. Wish you would have told me about him earlier. Now that he had to drag Natalia off like a caveman, we probably won't see him again tonight."

"It's another lead for you to follow, though. Are you doing any research?"

Gilbert scowled. "Matthew's systems are too heavily encrypted. I'd need to upgrade my tech."

"I find it hard to believe you don't have the most cutting-edge stuff, bastard. Why haven't you upgraded?"

"Too busy! Shipments, kingship, all that. Maybe I can pick up some stuff before we take everybody back to Jones."

"Maybe. Hey, I keep meaning to ask, bastard," he said to Arthur. "Want to go back to England, as long as we're here?"

"We don't have enough time! We have to get all the Jones people back to the school. But I guess we could come back here afterwards?" Gilbert shrugged at the Brit, who sighed.

"You know what? I don't even care anymore. When we first learned about it, you know I felt kind of – neglected, or whatever, that I had to leave without knowing it. But by now it hardly matters. Sure, if we're ever there, we might as well spend some time, but I don't feel that burning need to go 'say goodbye' to the bloody place. I'd rather go back to Voyager Dome, or someplace new."

"That's cool," Romano told him, patting his hand. "But if you ever change your mind, let us know."

"I will. Thanks, gits."

The Italian leaned his head back against the wall again, resting his eyes, and let the sounds of the party flow over him. Gilbert and Mathias began to discuss various people they could see.

In a few moments Romano sensed Arthur shifting his chair closer, and smiled without opening his eyes. Kingship? They could have it. He was perfectly happy with his life just as it was, right now.

…

_I lived in Germany for a little while, and my predominant memory of Germans from that time is that many of them were skinheads. Since this is a non-canon universe Ludwig has temporarily shaved his head, just for the fun of it. But I can't help thinking he regrets this, especially when Feli starts stroking it in public!_

_So, about America, you knew I was going to slip him in here somewhere. There will be more about him._


	41. Mars: Skirmish Dome

**Mars: Skirmish Dome.**

Romano couldn't believe they'd stayed away from Mars for two full years. Two years! Gilbert had given in on the bet very early on, after they'd decided to buy the damn dome with the help of the consortium. Meek little Matthew and his meek little wife had helped them place and win the bid to purchase as well as assisting with the contractors for the new dock, who had also outfitted the newly-christened dome with more up-to-date systems. (Much of this was due to generous government grants.) The housing units had been refurbished, the town renovated, and the population had tripled. The consortium was already discussing adding a "bubo extension," as Gilbert called it. Damn albino. But today they were heading back for the new dome's dedication ceremony.

He snorted. Ceremony! How stupid. But they had to do it. Had to take their places at the head of the fucking consortium, at least for the next few days, while celebrations went on in the fairgrounds, at the school, and whatever the fuck else they had planned. Then they could get the hell out of there.

…

After the coronation, Romano had argued quite strongly against their buying the dome, and Arthur had asked him why, one night. Why he was digging in his heels on a process that would benefit a lot of people, bring a measure of security to so many lives. "I know it's not just because you had bad times here. What else is wrong? Are you afraid of the responsibility? You know we'll help you, Lovino."

He always softened when Arthur called him by his real name. The blond only did this in private, and the sound of it took Lovino right back to all their close times together in the dorm room, just him and Arthur against the world. He would never tell his friend how much he loved to hear him say it, but then, he suspected Arthur already knew. "I've been trying to think about it. Because as you say, bastard, there are a billion reasons to do this, and no really good reasons not to. But I still have this – this damn negativity in my heart."

"I'm starting to worry. You know we'll all back you up, but Gilbert and Mathias want to start pestering you about it. They can't come up with any reasons against it, either, and they both think you're holding out on them. That there's something about your life you haven't shared with us which is making this bad for you. Won't you tell me? I'll try to help you, if I can."

Lovino stopped pacing and sat on the bunk next to Arthur. "I know you would. When I can't sleep at night I lie here and try to work it out, and what comes into my head is this. Remember you once said you felt dispossessed, when you found out you were supposed to leave Earth for good, but no one had ever told you this? I feel that way too, and I hate – I _hate_ – that Jones Academy is the fucking place where my goddamn father abandoned me."

"But it's also the place where so many good things happened to you! I mean, ahem, you met me, for one thing, and that's got to be the best thing that ever happened to – ow!" Both of them laughed as Arthur rubbed his arm where Lovino had punched him. "But you see what I mean."

"I do see. I see that logically, every time I go over this in my head."

"Well? Let go of the pain, loverboy. Embrace the golden future."

"Jesus. You sound like some kind of stupid self-help ad."

"Meant to, git. Come on, you know it makes sense. You're just holding onto that pain for some reason. Wish I knew why."

That was the phrase that unlocked the mystery for Lovino. "I hadn't thought of it that way. Just the way you said that, that makes sense! I – I think," he said slowly, "I think I'm holding on to it so that I can compare it with all the good stuff now. Look back at the shithole my life was in, my first year, and now I can say 'fuck it, everything's so much better.' But I'm still afraid it's all going to come crashing down on us."

Arthur took his hand. "If it does," he said quietly, "we have a lot of new friends to help us. Even if we lost every penny we had, what's the worst that could happen? We have to sell the bloody dome to some other consortium. So what? We're going to be off in the Bunny, right? We'll still have a home, even if it roves around in space. Or we can sell the Bunny and get odd jobs in some unremarkable dome somewhere to make enough to live off, or even work here somewhere. We'll pull through, all four of us."

Lovino held his hand and thought about this. It didn't all come crashing into focus immediately, of course, but later, when it did, he'd agreed.

Sitting in the captain's chair now, he thought back to that time. Of course the fucking albino idiot had made a huge production out of this, hugging him and then capering around in glee. One sour glance from Captain Vargas – hah – and he'd shut up, though.

Everyone – the passengers as well as the four travelers – had headed back to Mars right after the coronation. While the others had all gone back to work or school, the friends had spent a lot of time exploring the dome in depth with an eye towards ownership. Gilbert and Roderich had held financial meetings; Romano had joined them to discuss administration, regulations, taxes. They'd all spent time checking out derelict buildings, calculating air and water requirements, arguing over the best placement for the dock.

Gilbert had also managed to wheedle Matthew into helping him get going with the beep tech testing and shit. By now the factory had been built. There was to be some stupid ribbon-cutting ceremony there, and he and Arthur would have to attend that one too, even though Gilbert was the head of that deal. At least they could stand in the audience for that one.

Really, everyone had come together with surprising enthusiasm. Feliks was going to open a clothing store! Pfft. That ought to be – _interesting._

"What are you snorting about, Cap?" Mathias asked, poking him.

"Stupid shit. Nothing, really."

"Isn't this amazing? I mean, we really are four guys out of nowhere, and now we _own a fucking dome!_ That is the coolest thing ever." Gilbert blew Romano a kiss.

"Git. My beer is the coolest thing ever."

"Your beer is a hundred percent awesome, I agree." He patted the Brit on the back. The "space-brewed" beer was in high demand from all their friends; Arthur refused to market it, because he'd said it made him feel silly, but he did give small batches to their special friends. One case on hand was earmarked for Roderich and Elizaveta, and one for Tino and Berwald, who would be attending these ceremonies as well.

"I hope fucking Manuel and Martín don't try to come back for this. Is there any way we can keep them out? Or, ugh, Antonio and stupid Francis?"

"Don't worry. The dome's like a border crossing. We have the option to deny entry to anyone we want." Gilbert "kesesese'd" a little under his breath.

"But we shouldn't do that. It's an abuse of power and it's just harsh, too."

Everyone stared at Mathias. "There speaks the noble king, folks. Well, fuck, you'd better be prepared to bodyguard me again," Romano laughed. "If I see any of those four, I want everyone to start beating the shit out of them. Then they won't _want_ to come here."

"Dock's signaling," Arthur interrupted, and they hurried to their stations.

…

"Ah, dammit, why do we have to do this?" Romano looked at the sea of attentive faces gazing up at them on the makeshift dais. He wondered why the hell anyone would want to come watch this stupid ceremony anyway. If _he_ didn't have to be here, he certainly wouldn't be!

"Shut it. Just stand up here, let Adnan and Roderich give their little talks, and we can be done. Okay?"

"Yes, all right, all right." Romano fidgeted.

They'd asked Roderich to be their spokesman, because none of the four friends felt comfortable standing up and saying anything coherent in front of a crowd. So the Austrian would be giving a short (_very short,_ Romano had demanded) speech to wish everyone well. He craned his neck to look at Roderich at the other end of the dais; he seemed very cool and composed. Further along, Adnan clutched a stack of note cards nervously, and Roderich kept patting his arm. (To calm him down? Hah.) Well, the bastard was used to having to lecture a bunch of students, but probably not to address a crowd like this one. Romano wondered what the speech would be about. It looked like a pretty small stack of cards.

Mathias stood to Romano's right, looking very classy in his dark suit from the coronation, Gilbert on the other side of him. In fact, all four of them were wearing their Danish suits, and they all looked good. Romano wanted to hold Arthur's hand for reassurance, but he refused to do it in front of such a big group of staring idiots. He clasped his hands together behind his back, instead, and scanned the sea of faces before him.

From where he stood, he picked out King Tino and Prince Berwald in the waiting audience, right at the front (he guessed they were the most important people here), flanked by Elizaveta with Lili on her shoulders, Karpusi and the other teachers, Feliks with Laurinaitis and some of the businessmen from the town, and then, spreading out in ranks behind them, the students, the new beep tech employees, workers from the town, and their friends. Way in the back, he saw Vladimir and Emil standing together, smiling; the casino bastard raised his arm and waved frantically, and Romano, cheered, gave him a little finger-wave.

A hush then spread over the field as Adnan stepped forth to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, and students," he began, getting a short laugh, "you all know why we're here. This dome, which under the old Government was merely a holding tank for underage criminals, has been turned over to a private company. Renovations have been ongoing for several years; the school is now a privately-owned school for boys, no longer for convicted criminals. The town has expanded and been revitalized; everyone is doing his or her part to ensure that the new Skirmish Dome will be a place where people choose to live – a community of friends, rather than simply a collection of people existing. On behalf of the school, we'd like to thank the consortium that made this possible."

Cheers and whistles erupted; even Tino was clapping crazily, and Roderich stood forth to the microphone to speak. "My friends," he began, "this revitalization, as my friend Sadik puts it, is not just due to the consortium. Not just due to the school, or the efforts of a few. All of us – all of _you_ – have participated in the rebirth of this dome. Thank you all, for your ongoing efforts. Let us work together to keep Skirmish Dome a healthful and hospitable place to live." He stepped back and another wave of cheering swept the field.

Pfft. 'Healthful and hospitable.' Romano jolted Arthur with an elbow and heard his friend's answering snort.

But that was the end of the speeches! Mathias, as their group representative, stepped forward and shook hands with both Adnan and Roderich, and then the people at the back of the crowd began to filter away. The school had thrown its doors open for the day and students had prepared exhibits on the history of space travel in general and Mars in specific. A lot of these bastards would probably go nose around in there for a while.

The people on the dais stepped down onto the field and almost immediately found themselves surrounded by well-wishers. While Tino took Mathias aside, Mr. Oxenst—_Berwald _came to speak with Romano. ""M proud of you," he said quietly. "Y've grown 'p a lot in th' last few years. Looks as 'f this dome'll be a place people w'll want t' move to, stay in."

"Th-thank you, sir." Dammit. Romano felt doubly uncomfortable, not just because of the ceremonial shit, but because Mr. Oxenstierna now ruled a large part of Earth! "H-how are things back in Copenhagen?" he managed, wanting to be polite.

"Not s'bad. Noth'ng really much t'think about. We're going t'adopt a son, one of Tino's cous'ns."

"Oh! Congratulations. So he'll still be in the line of descent," Romano realized.

"Exactly."

Tino greeted him calmly. "Congratulations," they told each other, laughing a little. "I'm very happy for you," the king continued. "It's an achievement to be proud of."

"Thank you." Romano knew he was being surly but, dammit, he was really uncomfortable. Perhaps sensing this, Tino drew his partner away with a nod. The Italian desperately scanned the crowd for Arthur and saw him speaking with Emil. He hurried to join them; talking to those two would be a lot less stressful than having to make nice with these bigshots. "Hey."

"Hi! Wow, this is exciting." Vladimir beamed at him and that fang glistened in the artificial sunlight. Romano tried not to shudder. "I can't believe this, I really can't. This place was such a dump, such a – a – "

"Shithole?" Arthur suggested, making them all laugh.

"Well, yes. But look at it. I still can't believe it."

"Yes, you said that." Emil poked him and they laughed again.

"So you've got your place set up?" Both the students had graduated last year and, feeling emboldened by all the new activity, had asked Adnan for help in setting up a recreational center for the children and teens of the area. This hadn't been their original vision – they'd wanted to help troubled youth – but they'd need secondary education, accreditation, before handling cases like that. Emil was already studying hard for his secondary degree, Romano knew; Vladimir would be running the business, creating a safe place for young people to go when they wanted to get away from authority figures: an arcade, reading room, soda shop. "We could have used a place like that," he admitted, scowling up at their old dormitory, the scene of so much pain and love.

"Everything's all set. Mr. Adnan has been very helpful." Emil blushed and then held out his hand to Romano; the Italian shook it, bemused. "Th-thank you for everything. I – I mean, not just what you did for me – for us – at Russia Dome, but everything you've done here, too. Making this place worthwhile."

Romano felt himself blushing; not wanting to be rude, he covered this by gruffly telling the boys, "Thank Gilbert and Arthur, and Mathias. They're the ones who talked me into it." Dammit, he knew Arthur would be smiling that goofy smile at this statement, so he looked back at the dorm and scowled.

"Listen," Arthur told the boys. "We have some administrative things we need to get done, but best of luck to you. We'll see you around, before we take off again, yeah?"

"Okay." Vladimir shook his hand one more time, he was that enthusiastic. "But thank you! Really!"

Arthur took Romano by the arm and led him to the outskirts of the crowd. "What administrative shit?"

"Nothing, you transparent git. I could see you wanted to get away from the crowds. Come on. Nobody's looking; let's run for it."

"Last one there's a rotten tomato!" Romano broke into a run, but Arthur kept pace with him, laughing all the way there.

…

"I'm tired of these stupid-ass ceremonies," he growled, a few days later.

"Last one tomorrow. Beep tech thing; we can just stand in the back and watch Gilbert show off, and then get out of here."

Romano nodded. The four of them had opted to claim two of the smaller housing units for their local needs. Theirs needed furnishing, though. So far all they had was a bed and some kitchen things. He tried to ignore this (though a little part of his mind was in decorator mode) and walked to stand at the window of their living room, watching the hubbub of activity below. "I can't believe how damn happy everybody is. Everybody's acting like it's a festival. _Balloons!_ It's idiotic."

"It is a festival, you cold-hearted git. You and I aren't the only ones who suffered here. Even Adnan. You know, it couldn't have been easy for him, stepping into Braginsky's shoes with all these criminal buggers around. But he's safe too, now, and I'm sure it's a relief. Everybody has their reasons for celebrating. Plus something like this doesn't happen very often. Let them party."

"Bastard, you have such a – such a – dammit, you always manage to look at all the different aspects of something. It's really impressive." He turned from the window to Arthur, brewing tea in the little kitchenette. They really needed to get this damn apartment furnished! Romano refused to live off tea and Marmite toast, which was all they had in the place.

"That's me. Impressive Bloke. Want some tea?"

"Sure, bastard. I'm sick of beer." He came into the kitchen and put his arms around Arthur's waist, resting his cheek against the blond hair.

"You'll always be a git. You know that?"

"Yeah, I know it, stupid. A git who loves you." He tried to kiss Arthur's hair, but the Brit turned in his arms, tea forgotten.

"Thank you." Arthur kissed him sweetly.

"For what? What?" He began to panic.

"Everything, you brainless wanker. Being my friend, and being strong, helping us all…Bollocks, you know what I mean. Don't you?"

"Yes, idiot. I know what you mean." He smiled.

The tea sat on the counter, ignored, as the two friends left the kitchen to make use of the only piece of furniture in the apartment.

…

"Do I look all right? Seriously, do I?" A frantic Gilbert stood in front of the window of their apartment, trying to use it as a mirror, because they had no furnishings yet, either. "Come on, tell me!"

"You look fine." Mathias patted his hair, and the albino scowled before finger-combing it back into place. "Gilbert, stop obsessing! You look perfectly normal."

"You don't get it. I don't want to look normal. I want to look _better_ than normal. This is my big moment in the spotlight! Famed in song and story as the inventor of beep tech. I have to look good, you know; there are media people out there and everything."

"Stupid. There have been media people here all week."

"I know, but they weren't focusing on me."

"Hah! Want to bet? Have you even been reading the news feeds? You're all over the place."

Gilbert stopped trying to tie his tie and turned around in amazement. "You're kidding! Show me." He walked over and picked up his tablet.

Mathias yanked it out of his hands. "Focus, you goof. Come on. We only have ten minutes!"

"_Scheisse._" Gilbert turned back to the mirror and fixed his tie as well as he could. "Well, that's as good as it's going to get. Come on, Den, let's move."

"You got it, Triple G."

…

After the ceremony – during which the idiot albino had preened and shown off alarmingly – there was a reception out in the sports fields. Everyone under the dome was invited; the beep tech company had paid for a little catered spread, and everyone milled about, nibbling snacks and drinking. Romano stuck with sparkling water; he didn't want to get drunk and do something stupid here.

"Well?" he asked Gilbert. "Are you happy now, famous beep tech bastard?"

"That's me." His friend gave him the Awesome Grin. "I can't wait to get out of here and read all the news feeds about me."

"You're the most self-centered bastard I ever met."

Mathias appeared, a plate of canapés in his hand. "You've said that before."

"Pfft. I'll probably say it again." Romano took something from the plate and ate it. "Because it's true."

"I know," the Dane sighed, "but you know we love him."

"You know what this dome needs? Souvenir spoons. Awesome souvenir spoons."

"Hah! With your picture engraved on them, right, bastard?"

Gilbert gave him a funny look. "That would really be stupid, Romano. Maybe with a picture of a beep tech watch." He raised his arm to show off his own personal beep tech device, which was red to match his eyes. "Man, I'm excited about this."

"Yeah, me too. It's – interesting to see how all this is playing out. I'm kind of looking forward to coming back here, eventually, and checking in, to see how things are going. You're confident with the Austrian bastard being in charge?"

Mathias snorted this time. "You must be joking. He'll hold the reins of administration so tightly that nothing could possibly go wrong."

"And anyway, Matthew said his brother and Natalia are going to move here too. Matthew and Katia are too entrenched in Cassini Dome, but he wanted to have someone locally to keep an eye on things. I guess he thinks his brother is sensible enough to do that."

This disturbed Romano a little, and he said so. "Why does Matthew feel he needs to keep an eye on things? Doesn't he trust us? It's not his damn dome. He's not even part of the consortium."

"Oh, whatever. Don't you feel a little more secure knowing he's looking after it? I mean, we're not exactly experienced at this stuff. Besides, it's nice to keep on his good side. He gets things done." Gilbert patted Romano's shoulder. "Just relax. Go with the flow."

"Shit, you're starting to sound like Arthur."

"Somebody call my name?" the Brit asked, sliding into the group.

"Yeah. What the hell else have we got to do at this damn dome before we can leave?" Romano asked them all. "Pack? Restock the ship?"

"That's all done, except for our suitcases. We should head to Earth or Russia Dome next. I need a lot of supplies."

"Beermaking shit?"

"Yes, but we need to get stuff to furnish the apartment, and whatever." Arthur blushed, and Romano turned away, too, fighting a smirk.

"Kesesese! Sounds good. Let's go back to Earth. Then we can dock in London and have some adventures there."

"All right with you gits?"

"All right with me," Mathias laughed. "Never been there."

"You know it's always all right with me, you dumbass."

Suddenly a large, laughing group of people descended on them: Matthew, Katia, Alfred and Natalia. Yes, Natalia was smiling! Romano actually backed away from her, before realizing she wasn't really a threat. "Congratulations, dudes," Alfred said, shaking Mathias' hand. "This is awesome. All of it!"

Gilbert shook his hand too. "Thanks. We're looking forward to seeing how it works out."

Romano let the small talk wash over him; a waiter went by, and he took a fresh glass of sparkling water from the tray. He glanced around at their new acquaintances, who had all been so helpful, and caught Katia's eye. She smiled at him; he nodded.

"I just wish I'd been able to figure out who was the head of the Resistance!" Gilbert's voice broke into his musings.

Katia, still looking at Romano, froze, and then her grin widened, and she winked at him, raising her glass for a sip.

_Katia?_ With a dawning smile of his own, Romano raised his eyebrows and his glass, silently saluting her.

Arthur didn't seem to be focusing on the conversation, either. Romano reached out to take his arm. When his friend blinked and smiled at him, he began to ease them both out of the group. As they left, he laughed and called back to Gilbert and Mathias, "Come on, bastards. Let's get the fuck out of here."

…

_Yes, Ukraine was the head of the Resistance. I tried to pick the least likely nation to spearhead something like that, and other than Latvia, she seemed like the logical choice. I think she'd probably be effective at it, because she's so unassuming that nobody would guess she was the one._

_This is the end of the story. Thank you, everyone who has read and enjoyed. I find it really hard to write when there are more than 3-4 people in a scene, and with these four hanging out together so much and all the other characters getting involved, it was becoming very stressful for me to sit down and write, so I decided to wrap it up. I hope you liked it._

_I'm finding my enthusiasm for AUs is waning, and so I'm going to finish up "Estonia's Love Life" and then think about something in the canon universe next. _


End file.
